


C'est La Vie, C'est La Mort

by sarcastic_fina



Series: Life, Love, and The Undead [2]
Category: Smallville, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fina/pseuds/sarcastic_fina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stefan and Chloe are on the hunt for a rather odd robber in small town Louisiana, but what was supposed to be a small case to welcome Stefan to the world of mystery-solving quickly turns into something a whole lot more sinister. All the while, a much-needed friendship has been blooming, but unforeseen repercussions may make it just a stepping stone to something much deeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**I.**

The crack of cues at the pool table across the bar and the low hum of various people keeping conversations with each other made up most of the thick cacophony filling the large room. Dim lighting and too-warm air were common place, but Stefan almost wished they'd picked somewhere else to eat; it all reminded him a little too much of Mystic Grill. But Chloe had cited that diner food was a no-go since it'd been a staple of her day-to-day menu for too long and she wanted to try something else. They'd been on the road nearly all day, with his car keeping pace behind hers, putting the sleepy town they'd met in behind them two days earlier in favor of a yet-known mystery to be solved.

The burger and fries in front of him were subpar, usual pub fare; he'd much rather a kitchen of his own to do some original Italian cooking, but the chances of that were slim. He wasn't even sure the name of the town they were passing through. Chloe had simply flicked her blinker and before he knew it, they were parked outside the pub, side by side, her Yaris looking a little ridiculous next to his classic car.

For all her talk of being starved, she was hardly touching her food.

"You're doing it again," he said, mouth curled at the corners, amused.

Chloe met his eyes and shrugged apologetically. "Is it weird how odd I find it that you eat regular food?" she wondered, brow raised.

"Yes." He waved his fork at her, snorting lightly. " _That_ is the weirdest part of this whole thing."

She rolled her eyes, reaching up to brush blonde bangs off her forehead. "Shut up," she muttered. "I mean, I get the coffee addiction, I have one of my own." She shrugged. "Plus you mentioned that whole 'makes your skin warm' thing. But what's with the food?" She eyed his plate, brows furrowed in true confusion. "If you get all your nutritional value from blood – and since you look pretty damn healthy for someone who's technically dead I would say you _do_ – then you don't really need to follow the food pyramid, right?"

"I _could_ subsist on blood," he agreed. Plucking up a fry, he turned it over, examining the golden hue. "I don't know. Part of it is, I think, familiarity, maybe a little nostalgia. But mostly…?" He raised his brows before popping the fry in his mouth. "I _like_ food. Frankly, the idea of never having another steak? A bowl of pasta?" He shook his head. "It's depressing."

Chloe laughed. "Okay, good point." She raised her glass and clinked his with hers.

He bowed his head in recognition.

Forgetting the peculiarities involving his eating habits, she dug into her dinner with gusto and like when she realized he was a vampire, he was once again happy that she didn't make such a big deal out of things, rather accepting him as he was and moving on.

"You gonna eat that?" she asked, pointing to the slice of pickle he'd laid on the side of his plate.

With a laugh, he told her, " _Yes_."

She pursed her lips to one side. "I will trade you this very attractive garnish of parsley for your pickle…" she offered, dangling the leafy, green herb at him.

He bit his lip as he smiled. "No deal."

She sighed. "You drive a hard bargain, Salvatore…" She narrowed her eyes and searched his face. "All right… I throw in the cutesy plastic sword they used to keep my burger together." She drew it out and brandished it between the pinched tips of her thumb and forefinger. "Or we could fight for the pickle. But I have to warn you, my sword skills are somewhat legendary."

"Well, for the honor of the pickle…" He leaned forward, resting one arm on the table top, before he tugged his red sword free and tipped it in her direction. " _En garde_ , Miss. Sullivan."

Plastic met plastic in a playful fight that Stefan eventually won when he managed to flick her sword free of her fingers, where it flipped up in the air between them and landed perfectly, pointy end down, back in the seeded bun of her hamburger.

Brows raised high in surprised, Chloe let out a short laugh. "Bested," she said, clucking her tongue. "I guess I'll have to accept defeat. The pickle is all yours, good sir."

Grinning, he turned his sword down and speared his reward, before holding it out to her. "Please… Have it."

She tipped her head. "Yeah?"

He nodded.

Happily, she freed the pickle and flipped the end over into her open mouth to take a bite. "Thank you."

Amused, they returned to their separate meals. But Stefan couldn't help but notice how lighthearted he felt around her. In all the years he'd been a vampire, he couldn't remember connecting with many people; partly because he avoided getting too close. Lexi had been special; she'd helped him, guided him, and when things became heavy, she was always there to help relieve some of the pressure. And then there was Elena, who much like Lexi had brought out the side of him that wanted to go out, wanted to be a part of, even if it was mostly because he knew it was to make her happy. He stopped hiding himself away, avoiding life, and instead met it head on. It was something he knew he needed in his life, and he was happy he found it in Chloe, even if he wasn't sure how long their partnership of sorts would last.

Speaking of, his mind wandered back to the adventure they were meant to be on. Maybe it was a defense mechanism against getting too attached, but he thought it smart to focus on the idea of solving a mystery rather than the still lingering light feeling encouraging a smile to curve his mouth.

As the waitress returned to take their dishes, he brushed his hands clean and put his attention back on the blonde across from him. "So how do you pick a case?" He rested his elbows on the table top, arms raised, and threaded his fingers. "What's your process?"

" _That_ is where my trusty laptop comes in handy," she explained. "See, I browse online newspapers to see about unsolved crimes, something the local cops can't crack." She nodded, eyes turned off. "And then I wander over and start asking questions, sticking my nose where it doesn't belong."

"And you've found something?" he wondered, brows knit.

She smiled slowly. "Free WI-FI at that motel last night had me up entirely too long, surfing for our adventure," she told him.

"So what've you got?"

She reached for her purse then and drew it into her lap, digging inside to come up with a few printed pages, wrinkled from being stuck under her wallet and whatever else she had packed away in her bag.

He eyed the pages, somewhat surprised. "You brought your own printer?"

Chloe shrugged. "I brought all my necessities with me. Anything that relates to my laptop is _important_ ," she said with some amusement.

He smiled to himself.

"Anyway…" She spread them out between them and he eyed the red ink of where she'd underlined and circled important information. "A string of seemingly unrelated artifacts have gone missing," she told him, pointing at the first headline. "Five, to be exact. From three different places in the same small town."

Stefan frowned, skimming the articles quickly. "Just one from each place?"

She nodded. "And we're not even talking the most expensive things in some of these stores. A few of these were bottom-shelf deals."

"So either somebody's _really_ broke or they don't want a record of them _buying_ these things…" he deduced.

Chloe grinned at him. " _Very_ good."

He smiled. "Thank you."

"So, what we're going to do is find these things _and_ why somebody would go through so much trouble to steal them. It's all about the who and why."

Humming, he turned the pages around to read better.

Chloe flagged down the waitress and ordered a coffee. "Stefan, did you want one?"

He shook his head, not raising his eyes from the articles he was reading. "I'm fine."

While reading through the description the first store owner, Mr. John Bradley, gave, he accidentally wandered into a different column, something about an unsolved murder. Confused by what the two had in common, he quickly realized his mistake and moved his eyes over to where the column continued on another page. Two of the shop owners were willing to talk, but the third was said to be unreachable for comment. He kept turning over the information in his head; the items and why they might be important.

While Chloe was stirring cream and sugar into her coffee, he crossed his arms and leaned forward on the table. "So these stores? Are they close to each other? The owners know each other? Common link?"

She shook her head, sipping her coffee and laying her dripping spoon down on a napkin. "It's a small town and community, so they're bound to know each other, but we're going to have to talk to them in person, find out what the deal is. There's nothing on the internet that ties these guys together."

He stared down at the papers thoughtfully. "So if it's not the owners, it's got to be the artifacts…"

"From what I can tell, they were all pretty old. Well," she paused, correcting herself and teasing him, "In _my_ case they were… For you, they might've just been coming into circulation."

He smiled sarcastically. "Ha, ha."

She grinned before sitting forward, resting her cup on the table, both hands wrapped around it. "So? Are you excited?" She stared at him searchingly. "First big adventure, something to write home about…" Her eyes wandered away. "Or in your case, _not_."

He snorted, shuffling the papers into a pile. "I haven't talked to Damon or anyone from home in months," he told her, voice low, steady, purposely detached.

"Really?" She raised a hand and furled it into a fist for her chin to rest on. "So we're going the 'cut off ties' route…" She nodded. "Could work. I mean, you have eternity. So there's not even a deathbed of regrets to think about."

He tipped his head, staring up at her curiously. "Is this your subtle way of trying to tell me you think I'm avoiding something I shouldn't?"

"No, this is me probing to see what's up with you and your brother. You said there was a girl, you mentioned you wanted to find love with someone who doesn't give Damon a second-glance, so putting two and two together…" she trailed off meaningfully.

"You get Elena and Damon," he finished, lips pressed in a firm line.

"Are they?"

His brows furrowed. "What?"

" _Elena and Damon_." She raised her mug, asking before she took a sip, "Have they become a couple or did you run off before the inevitable could happen?"

He sighed, lifting his shoulders. "It's been months."

She nodded.

"And I broke up with her."

She watched him.

"And Damon's always just been…" He laughed humorlessly, directing his eyes down to the tabletop. "Waiting in the wings, so…"

"So you think before Mystic Falls was even in your rearview mirror, Elena was crying on Damon's offered shoulder?" She turned her eyes down and hummed, "Hm."

He stared at her. "What?"

"What?" she said, looking back at him, feigning confusion.

"What's _hm?_ " he prompted.

"Generally, it's a noise. Of agreeing or not so much."

"Yes," He nodded, "I know that. So which was it?"

She laid her coffee cup down on the table. "Does it matter?" She shrugged her shoulders high. "I don't know them personally, so my opinion shouldn't count."

"Maybe…" He stared at her levelly. "I'd like to hear it though."

She met his gaze a long moment. "Maybe another time." She pushed her seat back and grabbed up her purse. "Right now, I'm going to pay the bill and then we're going to find a motel and talk this case to death."

Stefan frowned, but didn't argue as she sauntered off toward the front counter. They'd agreed on an equality clause where they traded off paying for things, so he couldn't offer to get the bill as much as he wanted to. What he really wanted to do was dig a little deeper, find out what she thought was going on back home in Mystic Falls. But she was right; she didn't know Elena or Damon, so asking her opinion would just be encouraging or discouraging his own beliefs. Did he think Elena fell into Damon's arms as soon as he left? Probably not. As much as she seemed to love Damon, Stefan knew she'd loved him too. She wouldn't have tried as much as she did if she hadn't. Maybe what he was really doing was taking himself out of the equation before she _had_ to choose, because part of him knew he wouldn't be her choice.

"Ready?" Chloe asked as she returned.

Stefan managed a smile, though he was still distracted by his thoughts. Standing from the table, he nodded. "Sure."

As she grabbed her jacket, still hanging over the back of the chair, he reached over to help her into it, flipping the collar back. Her hair trailed over the backs of his hands, silky soft, and for a moment he was distracted by the distinct smell of apples that wafted up. He paused, caught in the moment. When she turned her head back to look at him, she half-smiled questioningly. His eyes moved from hers to her mouth and down, _down_ , the length of her pale, white neck.

"Stefan?"

He cleared his throat and broke eye contact. "Ready," he said, pressing a hand to the small of her back to get her moving.

He maneuvered them out of the crowded bar, purposely not looking at her even though he could feel her eyes bouncing back to him in confusion.

He was hungry, that was all. He just needed to feed.

…

They holed up at a motel where the Wi-Fi was free and the outdoor pool it boasted was seemingly swimmable. Neither of them were breaking out their bathing suits, however. Chloe wanted to do research and so she was laid out on her bed, laptop propped against her knees, hair tied up in a knot on top of her head.

He knew he was staring but he couldn't seem to stop. Just like at the bar, his thoughts were running away from him and he was helpless to stop it. Instead, he was reminded of how she'd tied it up at the bar they'd met in, wisps of blonde hair falling at her neck. He remembered how soft her hair was against his palm as he swiped them away; how sweet her shampoo smelled. How her skin was salty from sweat, warm from the muggy air. How supple it was, easily giving way beneath his teeth. The blood, rushing, flowing, filling him; strong, thick, coppery. There was a jolt; an intense throb inside him as he felt it pulsing through his senses. And then her body, moving, rocking against him, and there was nothing he could do but feel it; feel her blood coursing down his throat. Feel her small, curvy body pressing against him. Her breast, heavy in his hand, her nipple pebbled, desperate for the thrum of his fingers.

"Stefan?"

Did she remember panting his name? Desperate, pleading; not for him to stop but to continue.

" _Stefan?_ "

He startled, raising his eyes to meet hers.

She stared at him, concerned. "You all right over there? You've been zoned out for ten minutes."

"Oh, uh…" He looked around, blinking rapidly. "Yeah, I… I think I'm just… _tired_." He nodded. Licking his lips, he stood from the chair he'd been seated on next to the table. "I'm going to turn in," he told her, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "But tomorrow." He nodded. "You'll tell me everything you find out over breakfast?" he asked, brows hiked.

"Sure," she said, slipping off the bed and walking to the door to see him out. She watched him hesitantly, unsure about what had happened. "You know where to find me if you need anything."

He nodded, smiling faintly. "Thank you, Chloe."

As he walked through the door, he looked back at her. The glow of the lamp light in the room had lit her up from behind and her hair was like spun gold. She grinned at him, raising a hand to wave before the door closed. He didn't know why, but he felt a distinct stab of disappointment when she was gone from sight.

He started toward his own room, a few doors down from hers, but bypassed it. He was hungry. And not for a burger and fries at the local pub. Luckily, they were close to the woods; it was only a ten minute walk and with his speed and desperation to sate his hunger, he was there in seconds.

The hunt felt good. The smell of the air, cool and wet; it was going to rain, soon. As he weaved through the trees, chasing a rabbit that scattered fearfully into a bush, resulting in sending two others out of their hiding spot, he grinned. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, clawing at him to attack, to sever Bugs Bunny's head from his body and wring the contents onto his waiting tongue. But he enjoyed it too much to end it too soon. He rounded up all three rabbits, running circles, kicking up dirt and foliage, until they were all backed in toward each other, shaking with terror. He grabbed them all up by their ears and snapped their necks with an easy crack. He bit a chunk of fur off from one and spat it to the ground before finally he sunk his teeth into its neck.

He hadn't eaten in two days, he realized suddenly; not since he'd bit Chloe. His brow furrowed out at the realization. He usually had to eat daily, especially on a furry critters diet. He wondered if maybe that was why he was behaving the way he was; constantly aware of Chloe, zoning out.

He pressed his teeth deeper against the rabbit and drained it dry before he tossed the remains to the ground. He drew up his second to take his fill, all but forcing Chloe completely from his mind. The warm, coppery blood filled his mouth and drained down his throat, thickly coating his tongue, his teeth, and filling his belly. He felt it stain his hands and drip out the corners of his mouth, covering his chin. A spirited laugh escaped him as he dropped it to the ground and brought the neck of the third to his mouth. But as his teeth pierced it, his enjoyment was cut short. His stomach jolted sharply, revolted, and he doubled over for a moment, partly in surprise. The rabbit fell from his hand, black and brown fur stained and matted with blood, head lying at an odd angle.

Stefan pressed a hand to his stomach and groaned in pain. For a second, he wondered if it was vervain; if somehow the animal had found and ingested the plant. The pain was blinding, twisting and churning his guts. But it wasn't the same; it wasn't the distinct burn that vervain would cause. It was something else entirely. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his midsection, just rocking, eyes squeezed shut. Seconds passed, wave after wave of agony hitting him hard. He panted through clenched teeth, blood and spittle collecting around his mouth and dripping to the leaves and twigs, the moss and rocks collected on the forest floor. But slowly, eventually, it began to ebb; the clenching, the gut-wrenching pain. Until finally he could breathe again, slowly, with just a faint, fading stab at his sides, his lungs.

He sat back on his haunches and threw his head back, staring up between the branches of the trees at the starry night above. Blood dried on his hands, his mouth, drips of it trailing his neck. And then the pain was gone and he was fine, as if it was just a bad memory. He rose from the ground, his hands shaking, and reached up to wipe his mouth clean. He wasn't sure what it was or why it had happened. But he left the tainted rabbit there on the ground and turned way, walking instead of speeding out of the forest. It took him a half hour to reach the motel; he was further into the forest than he'd thought and during the walk, he found his feet dragging. He drew the hood of his jacket up and hid his hands away in the pockets so anybody walking or driving by wouldn't notice him in his less than put-together state.

He sighed with relief as the motel came into sight, his and Chloe's cars sitting side by side, the light of her motel room still on. He climbed the stairs slowly, paying close attention to his stomach, searching for any sign of residual pain. Finally, he arrived at his room, his shoulders drooped with exhaustion. Usually after feeding, he felt more alive, more energized, but it had the opposite effect tonight. After cleaning up, he laid down on his bed and curled up tight, part of him truly worried the pain would return.

He considered going to Chloe, telling her what happened. But he feared what she might think of him drinking rabbit's blood. Yes, she'd been understanding, even consoling, over him biting her. It didn't mean he liked that he was different though, and he preferred to remind her of it as rarely as possible.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he was even doing there, with her. They'd met only a couple days ago and sure, they'd shared life stories and a few secrets that probably shouldn't've been shared, but now he was road-tripping with her and for what? Didn't he have enough mystery and drama and adrenaline-rushes in his life already? But when they'd been sitting in the bar, going over possibilities, discussing what could possess a person to steal those artifacts, he'd enjoyed it. He _liked_ impressing her; liked taking apart the puzzle and putting it back together.

So he would stay, for now. He would let it play out and see where it took him.

He fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of a blood-thirsty rabbit chasing him instead of the other way around.

…

"You look like hell."

Stefan rubbed his face and smiled lightly at her candid greeting. "Good morning to you too, Chloe," he murmured tiredly.

She held out a Styrofoam cup of coffee and waved it at him encouragingly. "Here. Maybe this'll help."

Thankfully, he took it from her and brought it up to his nose to inhale deeply. "Lifesaver," he murmured appreciatively.

With a grin, she nodded her head for him to follow. "So I was thinking we'd get something to eat and then hit the road. I'd like to get there as soon as possible and we're still a two days' ride away."

"Before the cops figure it out, you mean?" he wondered, following her down the stairs to the parking lot below.

"Preferably, yes. Although this has been an issue for nearly a month and they've yet to figure it out, so I'm not putting too much stock in the locals," she told him, before wiggling her hand, where keys jangled. "Come on, we'll take my car. No point in wasting gas, right?"

He shrugged, following her over to her Yaris; he didn't much feel up to the attention he'd have to pay while driving anyway. "Did you find anything after I left?" he wondered, opening the passenger side door after she'd unlocked it and climbing in.

"I tried, but I think we'll need to gather more information before I'll be able to find much of anything." Shaking her head, she buckled her seatbelt and put the car into reverse. "I've researched what I could about the items themselves but I'd like to talk to the store owners about where they got them, why they think anybody would want them…"

He turned in his seat and staved off a yawn. "So what do you think it is?"

"Honestly?" She frowned thoughtfully as she left the parking lot and turned onto the main road. "There's the natural theory that it's just an amateur robber who didn't know what he was looking for. Why he hit three different places, I don't know. Maybe the element of surprise?" She shrugged. "Then there's the possibility that he's actually a _pro_ and the artifacts he took are pricier than we even think. Although I've been looking into them and I haven't found anything. I mean, one's an antique hair brush. And we're not talking 'owned by a queen,' here either. They would've mentioned something like that in the paper." Brows hiked, she sighed. "And _then_ , there's the chance that each and every piece belongs to a much bigger puzzle… It's rare for somebody to break in for one specific item, but to do it at three different stores…?" She shook her head. "It doesn't feel amateurish to me. I think this guy had a plan."

Stefan nodded, arms wrapped around himself, hands tucked at his ribs. "I think you're right."

"Well, we're going to find out." She looked over at him as they stopped at a red light, eyes searching his profile. "You're sure you're up for this? No second thoughts?" She cocked her head questioningly.

He paused, remembering last night, his eyes falling. "I've… I can admit I've wondered what I'm doing here."

Chloe snorted. "Join the club."

He looked over at her, brows arched in surprise. "With me, or just in general?"

"Uh, can I say both?" She shrugged her shoulders high and glanced at the green light before moving through the intersection. "Look, I didn't get up one morning and know that my whole purpose was to chase mystery after mystery, with no set plan to my life." She shook her head. "I _had_ a plan. It was to be sitting pretty at The Daily Planet with my name under every big headline. But that…" she sighed. "Well, obviously that didn't go as planned."

Stefan watched her, his head leaned back against the seat rest. There were moments where Chloe seemed to be brighter than the sun and then suddenly she would say something and she was suddenly insecure or sad, living in a moment of the past she couldn't make up for. He knew that feeling all too well. In fact, most of his time as a vampire was spent wishing he could change things; change himself.

Parking the car in front of a small restaurant boasting the best eggs and bacon in the state, she turned to face him better. "What I woke up to one morning was chaos; my whole life seemed to be in this downward spiral that I had no control over. And instead of facing it or fixing it, I just decided to throw caution to the wind and hopped in my car with no destination in sight. I packed everything I cared about into the trunk and I took off, cutting ties from everybody and everything I knew and loved…" Her eyes fell before she offered a half smile. "And before I knew it, I was solving mysteries and I just I—I _decided_ that it would be what I'd do. It was something I'd always been good at. I…"

She nodded her head side to side. "Of course, I have moments where I question what I'm doing. _Why_ I'm doing it. I had an apartment, I had _friends_ , and I'm sure eventually I would've found a normal job and become a normal person, but… Instead, I—I do _this_. Which is so very much _not_ normal and so very, _very_ me…"

He returned the smile she gave him.

"And now—" She laughed. "Now, I'm on the road with the only direction being a mysterious robbery and my only ally a vampire I hardly know who once tried to drain me of blood. So yes, Stefan…" She stared at him, brows hiked. "I'm going to have to go with _both_ on this one."

Stefan's lips folded in silent understanding as he nodded shortly.

"Let's look at this like an open-ended partnership, okay?" She raised a brow. "If you ever want to turn back, hand in your Scoobying pass, I won't argue." She held her hands up in surrender. "Just say the word and we part ways amicably. How's that sound?"

Eyes falling with thought, he nodded. "I think that'll work."

"Great." Unbuckling herself, she put her keys away in her purse and asked him, "So breakfast?"

He smiled. "I'm in."

…

The diner was average; the eggs and bacon admittedly _not_ the best he'd had, in this state or any other. But the coffee was hot and Chloe was fast on her way to breaking down the case for him.

"The first item stolen was a hat insignia from the Civil War," she told him, holding out a glossy picture for him to see. "I blew it up so we could see it better."

Stefan took in the photo, where a dusty brown-green patina took some of the definition away, though it wasn't hard to make out the gold leaves arched on either side of the block letters stating CSA.

"It's Confederate."

"I'm not as well-versed in the Civil War, but the CSA part, _Confederate_ States of America, was kind of a give away."

Brows furrowed, he licked his lips, staring at it a moment longer. "Are most of the artifacts from that period?"

"Those that have dates were during or just before the Civil War."

"There was a book; they mentioned it in the newspaper articles. Who was it written by?"

Chloe handed him over a photo of it. "Pisemsky. It was a first edition of his book 'The Simpleton.'"

"A first edition." His eyes widened appreciatively.

"Right. One of the few things I think might actually be worth something, at least to a collector. But the others…" Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head and held up a photo for each of the rest of the artifacts. "There was a gun; a revolver. An old tea set, seriously chipped, that the owner was selling for practically nothing. And finally there was a toy horse…"

"Yeah, I still don't get what the horse was about," he admitted.

"It was wood, didn't do anything but rock…"

"Sentimental value?" he wondered.

"Well unless we're talking a vampire who doesn't like his family heirlooms being sold off…" She frowned, brow knotted with sincere confusion. "But, I just, I can't see anybody going through this much trouble when so much of it was put out for cheap…"

Stefan shrugged. "I don't know. I think you'd be surprised what people do. Especially when it comes to their family history."

"Maybe." She gathered up the pictures. "Well, look, we'll make the trip over and see what the big deal is. Maybe there's something the store owners didn't mention to the local newspaper that we can dig up." She flashed her brows as she smiled.

Standing from his seat, Stefan dug into his pocket for his wallet.

"Uh-uh, Salvatore. You paid for the rooms last night, I get breakfast," she argued, pressing her hand to his wrist to stop him.

An argument died on his tongue, as all he could feel for a moment was her hand on him; the heat of her fingers against his forearm. His temples throbbed suddenly as if with a headache and then he felt it, the veins beneath his eyes, the thirst. He ducked his head. "I'll meet you at the car," he told her, before hurrying away.

He could feel her staring after him, but she didn't follow.

While Chloe was paying the bill, he sat in the car, drawing the visor down and staring at himself in the mirror. The whites of his eyes were blood red, the veins moving, reaching, throbbing. He closed his eyes and sat back, taking deep, calming breaths. Self-control was something he'd once mastered but it seemed with every slip it became harder and harder. After a few minutes though, he could feel the desperation, the hunger begin to recede, but then the door swung open and Chloe took a seat next to him.

All he smelled was apples before it flared up again and he could feel his fingers digging into his legs as he fought it.

"Stefan?"

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "The woods," he choked out. "I need… the woods."

"I'm guessing this is when you hunt down your real breakfast?" she said, but she wasn't expecting an answer. Instead, she pulled out of the parking lot and started back toward the forest, the same direction as the motel.

He focused on his breathing again; the smooth in and out, the expansion of his lungs as they became almost painfully full. But it seemed like every breath was consumed with her. He groaned. This wasn't helping. She smelled good. _Too_ good. Was that the perfume she'd been wearing the night they met? Did she dab some at her neck again? His nostrils flared and his eyes shot open; he turned to look at her, sitting ramrod straight in the driver's seat.

"When was the last time you fed?" she wondered.

He dragged his tongue over his teeth. "Last night."

She glanced at him. "And how often do you feed?"

"Daily…" He clenched and released his fingers. "Whenever the urge hits me."

"And it happens that quickly? It comes on just like that?"

He shook his head. "I'm usually okay. If there isn't any flesh blood, somebody doesn't cut themselves, I don't trigger easily…" He swallowed tightly. "But something…" He sighed. "Something was wrong with one of the rabbits I grabbed last night."

Her brows furrowed. "Wrong? Wrong _how?_ "

"It… It tasted _off_. I— I got _sick_."

Her lips pursed. "I didn't know vampires _could_ get sick."

"Not in the general sense. I don't get the flu if it's going around…" He pressed himself back against the seat and forced his eyes to the ceiling, balling his hands into fists. "But the blood _did_ something. I—My stomach it just… It twisted up, so tight I could barely breathe." He closed his eyes, brow knotted. "I've never felt like that. Usually, feeding, it… It makes me stronger, faster… Not as much if it was human blood, but still…" He sighed. "Felt like I was being stabbed in the gut."

Her hand touched his forearm again, soft and gentle. Only this time it didn't trigger him; instead it was soothing. She stroked her thumb back and forth. "So maybe there's something in the water around here," she suggested.

"I'll have to take my chances," he muttered, relaxing a fraction as her thumb began to make tiny circular motions.

"Stefan, if there's something out there that could potentially _hurt_ you—" she argued.

"It's a _rabbit_ ," he said, raising a brow. "And it only lasted a few minutes."

She sighed, but pulled over to the side of the road all the same. She unbuckled her seatbelt, but he reached out and stopped her as she reached for the door.

"I'm going alone," he told her.

She snorted. "You expect me to sit here and wait for you to go chase down something that might be tainted?" She shook her head, staring at him incredulously. "Look, we don't know each other well enough for you to know this, but there's no way I'm letting you go out there and get yourself hurt." She shoved the door open and climbed out. "It's just in my nature to butt in whether you want me to or not. So, I'm coming."

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Stefan climbed out of his side and glared at her over the roof of the car. "If I get hungry enough, I'm not going to care for the difference between you and a bunny…" His brows hiked. "You really wanna be on my menu again?"

She turned her eyes away then. "You might've caught me off guard and scared the crap out of me that night, but you didn't kill me…" She turned her eyes back to meet his. "Blood replenishes itself, remember?"

" _That_ time," he corrected. "You said yourself that your power comes and goes. We don't know if it'll be the same next time." Watching her face fold with irritation, he offered her an understanding smile. "I appreciate that you care. I do." He nodded. "But this is something I don't really want you to see… And it's something I have to do." He backed up from the car. "I won't be long."

"If it's tainted—" she began.

"I will call for help." He stared at her earnestly. "I _promise_."

She gazed back at him a long moment before finally nodding. "Fine."

He nodded at her shortly before speeding away into the woods.

For a moment, all he did was breathe in the fresh scent all around him, trying to breathe out the scent of her and apples.

Pausing, he closed his eyes and listened. For rustling, movement, even the heartbeat of the animals around him.

He could hear blood rushing, pumping, and the steady thrum of a heart. But as he opened his eyes, they narrowed. Because he swore… The heart he was hearing was Chloe's. The blood that was rushing was Chloe's. He couldn't block it out, couldn't focus on anything else. And when he inhaled, his eyes widened; _apples_. He dragged a hand through his hair and crouched, bending his head to listen harder, to search the area for something else, _anything_ else. It was impossible that she was the only live thing in as far as his hearing would reach. But it didn't matter where he stood or how hard he tried to listen for something else, all he heard was Chloe.

She was pacing; the snap of her footsteps back and forth sounded as clear as if he was standing just in front of her.

Her heart rate was a little fast; she was concerned, worried about him.

And her blood… He could hear it so clearly.

His eyes shot open, his teeth throbbing, the hunger clawing at him. He dug his hands into the ground, fingers digging up dirt and rocks; he didn't want to hurt her. Didn't want to _bite_ her. But if he didn't feed soon, he feared he might lose control.

The blur of a rabbit racing past him thirty feet away caught his eye just then and he sighed with relief before giving chase.

He was hesitant for a moment, as the memory of last night's pain suddenly returned. Holding his kill in his hands, teeth elongated, needy, he stared, panting as he parted the fur of the animal between his fingers. His gut churned uncertainly, but the idea of puncturing Chloe's neck again and her power not working was what encouraged him to finally bite down. He waited, tensed, as the blood flowed over his tongue and down into his stomach. But the pain never came. He chalked it up to being that one rabbit; whatever it had eaten it seemed the others hadn't. He wrung every drop from the rabbit before tossing the carcass to the ground. Licking his lips clean, he wiped at his bloody chin. He felt better, not so on edge, at peace.

As he began the trek back to the car, he even noticed he could hear the other animals now, the skittering of their heartbeats all around. But he was sated and didn't need anymore for the time being. He climbed up a small hill, stones and twigs rolling with each of his steps, before finally he was on the edge of the road once more. Chloe was waiting, her arms crossed over her chest, gnawing at her lip in concern.

She sighed, pushing off the car as he came into sight, but paused as her eyes noticed the blood that clung to his skin still.

He waited for revulsion; for fear to fill her face. Instead, she turned, reached into her car through the passenger window, popped the glove compartment box open, and came back with wet naps. "Here…" She held out a couple packs. "Try not to stain the seat, huh?"

He forced a half smile. "Thanks." He tore one open and cleaned his face before using the second one to wipe off his hands.

When he joined her in the car, she was silent, waiting for him to buckle up before she turned back onto the road.

He watched her out of the corner of his eyes, lips pressed in a solemn frown. "Do I scare you?" he wondered.

"You should," she told him, eyes firmly on the road. "You should terrify me."

He nodded agreeably. "I should."

Resolutely, she replied, "But you don't."

He turned to look at her, confused.

"I don't know what it is about you, Stefan. I mean I've _literally_ had you sink your teeth into me, but…" She shook her head. "You don't scare me."

His eyes dropped thoughtfully and he nodded. "I'm glad."

She snorted quietly. "Me too."

He closed one eye and raised a brow teasingly. "It _does_ make me worry about the company you keep though…"

She laughed. "Aliens and vampires and witches, oh my."

He ducked his head slightly, smiling. "Replace aliens with werewolves and you've got my group of friends in a nutshell."

She looked over at him. "Good people though?"

"Yeah…" He thought back to everyone; to the odd assortment of friends he'd collected in Mystic Falls. To Damon and Elena. "At the heart of it… They're all good."

"Then maybe we lucked out… Maybe normal wasn't all it was cracked up to be." She shrugged. "Supernatural is where it's at."

He chuckled under his breath. "Maybe."

…

When they arrived back at the motel, they went their separate ways to get their stuff together. Stefan put away his well-used copy of The Great Gatsby, tucking it in his suitcase with his folded clothes before hauling it down the stairs to his car. Chloe had her arms so full he wasn't sure she could actually see where she was going, proven by the fact that when she reached the stairs, she extended her foot warily and felt around.

"Wait!" he called, a stab of panic ricocheting in his chest. Thankfully, she listened, standing still. Jogging up the stairs, he took nearly everything out of her arms. "Would it have killed you to make more than one trip?" he wondered, carrying it down.

"No. But I'm impatient," she said, shrugging as she followed after him.

"We've still got a two day drive ahead of us. I don't think an extra five minutes would've slowed us down much." He grinned as he packed her things into the trunk and tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"True. But packing up everything felt like it was taking forever. And I just want to get on the road already." She closed the trunk door and turned to face him. "You're all ready to go?"

He nodded. "You got your motel key? I can return it with mine."

Digging it out, she handed it over to him. As he was walking away, Chloe called after him, "Hey, you're sure you got everything?"

He turned around to see her as he walked backwards toward the motel office. "I pack light. There wasn't a whole lot to put away."

"If you're sure…" She walked toward the driver's side door. "There's no turning back once we get on the road," she warned.

He grinned. "Duly noted."

Chloe smiled back before climbing into her Yaris.

After dropping the keys off, Stefan jogged back to his car. Chloe rolled down her window and raised a brow. "You want to take lead?" she asked.

He nodded. "Sure."

"You know these parts well?"

He gave her an amused look. "I've been around long enough to know the general landscape, yeah." He unlocked his car door. "If we get lost, I give you full rights to make fun of me for having this much experience and still not knowing my way around."

Her lips curled in a warm smile. "I'll hold you to that."

Minutes later, they were on the road, headed toward their first mystery. And while he'd been uncertain about it in the beginning, Stefan was starting to find himself excited. Chloe had surprised him. Both with her honesty and her willingness to take on this adventure with him, a relative stranger. More than that, she wasn't afraid of him. She recognized what he was and that it was dangerous and even knowing that she was still concerned for his safety. He had his doubts about how well it would all turn out; what had happened in the woods the night before still worried him. But he wanted this to work. He wanted to forget Mystic Falls and Damon and Elena and just focus on the mystery Chloe and her case provided. He wasn't sure how well he would do, but he was willing to try.

Looking at the little grey Yaris keeping up behind him, he smiled faintly to himself. Whatever happened, he was sure it would be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

  


**II**.

"What paper did you folks say you were from?" John Bradley wondered.

Chloe glanced up at the store owner from where she'd been writing in her notepad. "We're not a local branch. I'm not sure you would've heard of us." She raised a brow. "Now, you were saying that the store's security didn't go off."

"That's right. I had an alarm put in last year, but it wasn't triggered."

"And nobody but you knew the passcode?" Stefan asked from Chloe's left, his arms crossed behind his back.

"Nope. Just me and my grandson, Otis. But he's off to college now, so he doesn't work for me anymore." He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've put in a complaint with the company, but they ain't too quick to get back to me. Neighbors say I might just have a case if it turns out they sold me faulty merchandise." He shrugged. "Seems like a lot of trouble for somethin' so small, but you can't be too careful these days…" Bradley eyed Chloe's hand as it moved over the paper. "What're you writin'?"

"And the item that was stolen from you, sir," Stefan said, redirecting him. "It was a hairbrush? Nothing you would call especially important?"

"Yes." He nodded, reaching up to move his hat out of the way as he scratched his balding head. "Old brush though, real antique stuff. You can't find that just anywhere."

"And the other two stores that were robbed…?" He shook his head. "You don't have any affiliation with them?"

"Well I know old Bob from church," he said, nodding. "He's got a boy in the choir, real good singer. We don't talk much, 'cept on Sundays. Then my old Maye can't drag me away fast enough. We get to talkin' about business and wares, you know how it is."

"Had he ever seen the brush?" Stefan wondered, staring searchingly at the man. He pursed his lips, tipping his head. "Expressed an interest?"

"No… No, I'd say Bob was more the furniture and old artillery type o' store…" He nodded. "He had guns from as long back as they were makin' em."

Stefan turned to look at Chloe, but directed his question at Bradley. "He had a revolver stolen from him, right?"

"Straight out the Civil War." He scratched his whiskered chin. "Kerr's Patent Revolver."

Stefan looked to Chloe, explaining, "It was a 5-shot single-action revolver. Better recognized by its side-mounted hammer." He nodded. "The Union soldiers used them too. But the Confederates had a contract for all the rifles and revolvers that The London Armoury Company could produce. So the Armoury became a pretty big supplier of the Confederate's artillery during the Civil War."

"Ya know your history," Mr. Bradley said, smiling brightly. "S'good to see in folks so young."

Chloe snorted, ducking her head and pressing her lips to keep from smiling.

Stefan bumped her shoulder. "Thank you, sir." He turned to look at Mr. Bradley. "And the other owner, did you know him?"

"Well let's see…" He scrubbed a hand down his neck, where his silver and black beard reached. "Think I met him once or twice, really reclusive guy; didn't get out of his store much…" He shrugged. "Best ask Bob. He liked to shop between us, see if he couldn't find anything' to add to his home collection."

"He keeps some of his antiques at home?" Chloe asked, looking up.

"Sure. We all do. Wouldn't be proper collectors if we didn't." Leaning in toward them, he lowered his voice to a stage-whisper and raised his brows meaningfully, "Ya think Bob's gun collection is big at his store, you should see the one he keeps in his house."

"That's good to know. Thank you for your time, Mr. Bradley," Stefan said.

"Absolutely." He held a hand out to shake. "Hey, ya think you folks could let me know when this is gonna be in the paper? Or maybe you could send it to me?" he asked hopefully. "My Maye cuts out all the clips and puts 'em in her scrapbook."

Chloe smiled. "Sure…" She glanced at Stefan briefly. "I can absolutely send you the article."

After saying their goodbyes, Stefan and Chloe stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the store and started walking.

The street was lined with connected red brick buildings, the sidewalk elevated up three steps from the paved road where traffic moved easily. A green bench perched beneath a street lamp with overflowing flower baskets sat on each block, while every other lamp had a banner with the city's name written across it attractively. Across the road was a quaint, tiny post office with a flag pole just outside of it; a warm gentle breeze setting the flag to a small dance. She remembered passing a park in the town's square, filled with lush green trees, a large fountain, a pristine white gazebo, and thick bushes of colorful flowers.

For all her talk of loving the city, Chloe couldn't help but appreciate the qualities of the small town.

Stefan looked around at the passing townsfolk, who curiously looked in their direction as they passed each other. Keeping his voice low, he bent his head toward Chloe and asked, "So? You learn anything interesting? Crack the case yet?"

"Besides the fact that I don't think I want to visit this Bob guy's house unannounced?" She snorted, casting her eyes up toward him. "I don't know. I want to check out the grandson."

"Otis?" Stefan raised a brow. "You really think he'd come back from college to steal a hairbrush?"

"Probably not, but we should check every lead. _Plus_ ," She turned her eyes up to look at him, "he might've told somebody else the passcode…"

"Good point," he agreed, hand sliding down the smooth rail as they walked down the stairs to the crosswalk leading to the other side of the street. "Okay. Did you want to stop in and see Bob today then?"

"Actually, we're closer to Ken Cafton's store," she told him, tucking her notebook back in her purse. "And since he was hit the hardest out of everyone…"

"Right, he was the guy who had the book, tea set, _and_ the old toy horse…" He nodded. "All right. You want to stop and get a coffee first?" He glanced at her arms. "Or a jacket?" His brow furrowed. "It's getting kind of cold."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you for the concern, but I'm fine. Besides, I'd prefer to talk to him as soon as possible. He was the only one out of the shop owners who didn't give the newspaper an interview."

"Ahh… That would be the reclusive thing coming into play then…"

"Exactly, and you of all people should know that the quiet, broody types are usually far more interesting."

He laughed under his breath, ducking his head. "I'm flattered you think so."

They paused as the light to walk came on, looking both to make sure traffic had really stopped before Stefan's hand pressed at the small of her back for them to get them moving.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear as the wind picked up and blew it into her face.

"You mean how are the _cravings?_ " he asked, looking down at her, mouth curled in a faint, knowing smile.

"That and I'm wondering how you're feeling now that we're in town and working the case." She readjusted the strap of her canvas bag before checking the street sign to make sure they were going the right way. She pointed forward to let him know where they were headed. "I know you were a little unsure about doing it…" she continued, her eyes wandering over to the bakery they were passing by, the smell of fresh bread making her mouth water automatically. Shaking off the feeling, she noticed with some appreciation that there were far fewer townspeople to worry about overhearing their conversation.

"I was. But…" He shook his head. "I don't know. Now that we're here and asking questions, I guess…" He shrugged. "It feels nice not to be the one under the microscope."

She cocked her head. "You went through that a lot in Mystic Falls?"

"It was one of those situations where everything always linked back to us… Where every week there was something else we had to deal with, someone I cared about being put in danger… It's nice to be here, working on this, and not have to worry about how it might effect somebody close to me."

She nodded. "I can understand that." After a moment, she asked, "And the cravings?" She chewed her lip for a moment. "I'm guessing you go out and feed at night, when I'm safely tucked away in my room…?"

Arms crossed behind his back, he nodded at her. "It's not something I like…" He frowned. "I should say it's not something I like about myself. Because when it's happening, I enjoy it…" He stared at her, obviously trying to get his point across. "There's a rush to the hunt and to feeding… I—I become a willing participant." A solemn mask fell over his face.

Unable to help herself, Chloe reached out and pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Stefan, you know I don't judge you for it, right?" She peered up at him. "Much as I like animals, and I'd prefer if you stayed away from anything domesticated, I'm not going to start wagging the finger of shame in your direction." She shook her head. "We all have our vices… Yours just happens to be blood."

He snorted. "Well, regardless, it's not something I'm proud of. So as long as I feed at night, it stays a separate part of my life."

"And I get that, I do, but…" She sighed.

"But what?" he prompted.

Seeing the street sign, she turned left at the corner, leading them past a book shop boasting the owner both bought and sold, new and used. "Look, I don't want to tell you how to live your life, it's just… You remember when we talked at the bar? About accepting that side of you?" She stared up at him searchingly. "Well, I guess this is part of that. I mean, I understand wanting to push that part away, even stuff it down." She shook her head. "And I get that you wish it wasn't even a part of you. That you didn't have to do it, let alone talk about it, but…" She shrugged. "It is… You hunt, you feed, and you move on. It's not hurting anybody except a few rabbits in the odd forest here or there… Frankly, they're overpopulated anyway."

His lips twitched with amusement.

"The point is that you shouldn't feel ashamed of who you are… And much as you might not like it, the you that goes out at night and chases down furry little woodland creatures _is_ part of the same you that's talking to me right now. Maybe there are elements of you that come out that you don't always like, but I guarantee you that everybody has those." As they stopped in front of the antique store, she turned to face him. "Like my untamable need to butt into other people's business. Sometimes it gets me into trouble, and it's even hurt people I loved because my curiosity got the better of me, but eventually I just had to accept that it wasn't going away…" She held her hands out in surrender. "Which is why I'm standing here getting in your business like an incredibly nosy friend," she laughed.

Licking his lips, he bowed his head in thought. "I know you're just trying to help," he told her, staring at her from under a furrowed brow. "But that part of me… It can get a lot darker than just chasing rabbits under the light of the moon. That part of me has killed people, _innocent_ people…" He raised his eyes to search her face. "And even if I never do again, I can never wash that blood from my hands."

When he moved to walk past her, he only stopped as her hand caught his forearm.

"You're right," she told him, searching out his gaze and holding it. "You can't wash it away…"

He nodded shortly, solemnly.

"And I'm by no means saying that I get it or I approve, but… I'm getting to know you and the person that I know is nice and gentle and charming!" Pursing her lips, she said with wide eyes, "Then again, Charles Manson was supposedly handsome and charismatic, and we both know that didn't turn out well…"

He laughed, his eyes wide with surprise. "Wow. That was… less comforting as you went on."

She grinned. "Sorry. I was going somewhere deep there and got sidetracked."

"Yeah." He nodded, stifling a smile. "I noticed."

Shaking her head, she looped his arm with hers. "Look, all I meant was that I think you know who you are." She poked a finger at his chest. "In here. And the part of you that comes out to play at night in the deep dark woods, that doesn't change that you're a generally good person."

Stefan's humor faded and he looked down at her with a sincere face. "Thank you, Chloe."

"Sure." She patted his chest. "Now, let's go see what Cafton has to say about a little toy horse…"

Stefan held the door open for her, his eyes darting up as a bell rang above, calling for the store owner's attention.

The store was musty, the smell of all the old furniture and toys and it seemed just about everything one person could think of had collected. Stefan detected mildew on the air, his lip curling. As they walked down the center aisle, his eyes wandered over shelf after shelf of knick-knacks and kitchen wares. A grandfather clock tick-tocked on the other side of the room, a rather depressing sound. The lighting was dim and his eyes rose to see that the man had installed antique ceiling lamps to give the room more atmosphere.

Chloe's hand brushed over the side of an old bassinet, a young girl's doll house sitting perpendicular to it.

"Can I help you?" asked a deep, gruff voice.

Chloe startled, her head whipping around suddenly and landing on the man coming through a door leading into the back of his store. His craggy face showed a life had been unforgiving for the most part. Thick grey eyebrows hung heavy over dark, glaring eyes. His nose was crooked, leading down to his lips folded in impatience and a white whiskered jaw.

"Uh, Mr. Cafton?" Chloe wondered.

"S'me," he said, before moving toward the till. "You from the bank or somethin'? Already paid my bills. Know I was late, but I got 'em paid. S'all that matters."

"Oh, uh, no…" She glanced back at Stefan before taking a step closer to the store owner. "Actually, we're from a private owned newspaper and we wanted to talk to you about the recent robbery you suffered."

"Ain't no sufferin' about it. All they got was a wood horse, a book, and a broke teapot." He snorted, motioning with his hand dismissively. "They wanted somethin' worth somethin', they should'a took the jewelry."

Brows furrowed, Stefan walked toward the glass case where beautiful jewelry, some grandiose while others were understated, were placed carefully in boxes and on neck displays. Diamonds, jewels, gold and pearls; Cafton was right. If a robber wanted to hit the mother load, it was sitting right there. Stefan tapped a finger against the case. "He's got thousands in here…"

Cafton nodded rather smugly. "Fool thief s'all."

"Do you have any idea why he would go after what he did?" Chloe asked, staring at him searchingly. "Any reason those three items might be important? Did they come in together? Do you remember anyone looking at those specific items? _Anything?_ "

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned his head back in thought. "I can't think of no reason they'd want 'em, nope. That tea pot set was on for cheap. Only reason I still had it out was 'cause somebody always buys 'em, broke or not… Everybody thinks they can just fix 'em up, sell 'em for a pretty penny…" He snorted snidely. "Sell 'em on the internet."

"The book was a first edition," Stefan reminded him. "The Simpleton."

"Ain't got no mind for books. Furniture is where I get most of my money. All the books are put on the shelf back there…" He pointed to the end of the store, near a dusty window.

"Mr. Cafton," Chloe began.

"Call me Caf," he interrupted.

"Sure, Caf then," she agreed. "Mr. Bradley said he had an alarm system in place and it wasn't triggered when he was robbed… Did you have anything like that?"

He nodded, eyes set far off, dismissive. "I do."

She raised a brow when he didn't elaborate. "And was it compromised…?"

"Nope." He shook his head. "No alarm went off that night."

She frowned. "And did anybody else know your passcode?"

"Don't have no one to tell," he said simply. "Don't have any employees. S'just me here."

"Okay…" She sighed. "Well, if we have anymore questions we'll stop by and see you again."

Stefan moved back to her side.

"And if you think of anything…" She dug into her purse and pulled out a small card, holding it out to him. "Just give us a call, okay? I'm Chloe, and this is Stefan."

Cafton stared at it a moment, but eventually took it from her outstretched hand.

As they were walking away, he called out to them, "What's a newspaper from out of town want with some little robbery over here anyway?"

Chloe looked back at him and half-smiled. "Let's just say we're concerned citizens and we only want to help in any way we can."

Cafton scoffed, but he looked back down at her card again thoughtfully before tucking it in his shirt pocket for safe-keeping.

The bell rung above their heads once more as they left, the door giving a small creak as it closed.

When they were back on the sidewalk, Stefan's lips pursed. "What was that about?"

"He knows something," she told him, footsteps picking up as they started back the way they came. "Or he was hiding something."

Stefan glanced back at the door and then to her. "How can you tell?"

She shrugged. "It was just a feeling I got… When I asked him about the alarm and he was dismissive, I felt like he was holding back." She shook her head. "When we talked to Bradley about it, he was genuinely worried about what it meant that his alarm hadn't gone off. Enough that he was thinking of suing." Her eyebrows came together. "But Cafton was dismissive, like he didn't expect it to work and it didn't matter."

Nodding, he frowned. "And it sounds like he's having money problems too…" he said, thinking back to his automatic question of whether they were from the bank.

"Perfect time to sue a big company for some big money."

He sighed, brows raised. "Or hire somebody to rob him for the insurance money."

Chloe snapped her fingers. "Yes! And get two others stores knocked over so it doesn't look like a random act by one desperate store owner."

"Right, but…" Stefan pursed his lips. "What I don't get is why not steal something worth more? Wouldn't the insurance payout be bigger if the jewelry was taken?"

"I don't know…" She sighed. "I need to put this on The Wall."

"The… _Wall?_ " he asked, shaking his head in question. "Care to explain?"

She grinned. "I will. Right after we get coffee."

Before he could push her for more, she took his hand and jerked him toward the fancy little coffee shop, the smell of which actually made his mouth water.

Dainty chairs and small, elegant tables were set up around the inside of the store, with a few patrons sitting around, sipping their coffees or nibbling on fresh baked treats. Chloe waved her hands in the air as if to gather the aroma closer. "Oh, that's wonderful," she sighed.

Grinning, Stefan followed her to the front counter.

Chloe giddily read what they were offering on the chalk board above, the menu written in neat white chalk handwriting.

" _I_ will have an almond mocha with extra whip, and for tall, dark, and broody over here…" She looked at him over his shoulder.

Stefan licked his lips, amused. "Regular coffee's fine, black, thanks."

"No whip cream, really? A little shaved chocolate on top?" She wiggled her fingers like she was sprinkling the imaginary chocolate on it herself.

He chuckled. "Not really my style."

"All right, but don't think you're stealing any of mine…" She wiggled her eyebrows as she dropped her purse to the counter and dug out her wallet. "Last chance…"

He shook his head, smiling.

"Man knows what he wants," Chloe said, handing the barista a twenty dollar bill. As her eye wandered over to the display case, she said, "And also that slice of strawberry shortcake, to go. _Please_."

"Coming right up," he assured.

As they were walking out of the store, Chloe waved the boxed case under his nose. "A reward for a good day's snooping," she told him.

"And what do we get if we solve it?" he asked.

She smirked. " _Drunk_."

…

"So… _This_ is what you meant by 'The Wall,'" Stefan said, eyes darting back and forth, taking in the whole of the motel room wall she had covered in papers, pinned up by thumb tacks. From the photos she'd printed off to the newspaper clippings to the notes she'd written before and since they'd arrived in town.

"It helps my process." She held her hands up as if to frame the wall in a picture of her squared off fingers' making. "This way everything is right in front of me, so I can connect the dots…"

Nodding, he folded his lips up and then leaned his head over and asked, "And what dots have you connected so far…?"

"One alarm not working is a glitch, a badly timed mistake… But _two_ …" Her eyes narrowed. "Either we have a hacker, or somebody who knew those codes."

"Cafton said he didn't tell anybody."

"Yes, but Cafton's also lying about something." Before he could say anything, she raised a finger. "Omitting is lying too."

He shrugged. "Depends on who you're omitting to."

She raised a brow at him. "What? So because we're strangers, it's okay for him to omit certain things to us?"

"Not okay, but maybe understandable…" He shrugged. "He just met us and we're asking about something that he _might_ have orchestrated…" He winced. "I don't know how honest I'd be either. I mean, he might be losing his business, we don't what lengths he'd go to so he could keep it."

Chloe's eyes wandered away, brows furrowed. "What if he was losing his house, too?"

"You mean if he couldn't afford to pay the rent on the shop, he was probably too broke to pay off his home…?" He sighed. "Chloe, if that's the case…" He stared at her. "How sure are you that we want to bring this to light?"

"You're asking if I'm willing to prove this guy did this even though it might've been to save himself from foreclosure…" She frowned, turning to face him. "Stefan, I don't like the circumstances, but we don't know that's what this is yet."

He searched her face. "And if it is?" He raised a brow. "Are we really going to ruin this guy's life over some… stupid hairbrush and a—an old Civil War revolver?"

She bit her lip and turned her eyes back toward The Wall. "I'll make you a deal… If it _was_ him and he was only doing it for the money to pay off his house and business…" She looked back at him. "Then we call it a case closed and the police don't have to know anything. I won't hinder their investigation, but I won't help it either…"

He sighed appreciatively. "Good. Thank you."

" _But_ , we don't make assumptions yet." She shook her head. "Just because the case looks that easy, doesn't mean it really is. We need to dig deeper." She put her hands on her hips and frowned. "We need to talk to the other store owner."

He nodded. "Tomorrow then? I don't think he's open anymore. When we were walking around in town I noticed most of them closed at five… It's almost six now."

Chloe glanced at the window to see that night had fallen. As if in reply, her stomach rumbled.

"Since you bought coffee and our dessert…" Stefan held his arm out for her. "Allow me to buy you dinner?"

Smiling, she wrapped her arm around his elbow. "Sure…" She looked up at him. "But don't think I haven't noticed you find a way to make sure I pay for all the cheap stuff while you get all the big bills."

Stefan's eyes darted away as he feigned innocence. "Really?" He smothered a smile. "I hadn't noticed."

She snorted. "Uh-huh."

"So what are we thinking of for dinner?" he wondered, waiting as she closed and locked the motel door behind her. "Pub food's getting a little tired."

"Agreed." She breathed in the cool night air and let it out on a sigh. "Well, since you're so eager to pay, why don't we go somewhere nice?" She smiled up at him. "I'm thinking…" Her eyes flashed happily. "Ooh, _pasta?_ "

He grinned. "Great idea."

As they reached the parking lot, he sped across the last twenty feet and appeared at the passenger door of his car, holding it open for her. Bending at the waist, he motioned her in with his arm, a smile curling the corners of his lips. "Your carriage awaits…"

She laughed lightly before crossing the space between them and climbing in. "Thank you."

Closing the door behind her, he circled the car to his side.

Leaving the motel in the rearview mirror, they made their way toward downtown once more.

Chloe fiddled with the radio for a little while before sitting back in her seat. "So… What did you do back in Mystic Falls? Did you have a job, or…?"

He shook his head. "No, in between solving the latest supernatural issue and saving those close to me on a weekly basis, holding a job just didn't seem possible, or likely…" He shrugged. "Before moving back to Mystic Falls, I mostly just explored… Went to concerts, art shows, just your average stuff…"

"Alone?" she wondered, brows furrowed.

"No, I… I had a friend. Lexi." He licked his lips as he felt his throat close. "She, uh… She was my _best_ friend."

He could feel Chloe's eyes on him but he purposely kept them on the road.

"Was Lexi a vampire too?"

He nodded, his jaw ticking. "She was. An old one; two hundred years older than me, in fact."

" _Was?_ " she asked, her voice soft.

Stefan eyed the street, looking for a decent restaurant to distract himself. "She died… Damon killed her."

Chloe didn't say anything at first and he couldn't help but look at her. Her face was unreadable thought and before he knew it, he was explaining.

"He said it was to cover up the fact that we were in Mystic Falls. Bodies were popping up and there was a council, a group of townspeople that knew about vampires and were on the lookout for us… Damon came up with a plan to use Lexi to redirect their attention and to show himself to be as against vampires as they were." He licked his lips. "Made himself look like a hero, somebody they could trust…"

Her expression darkened. "At the expense of you and your best friend…"

He ground his teeth and pulled the car over next to a restaurant that was about as close to Italian as they were going to get. He shifted the car into park and turned the ignition off. "He promised me an eternity of misery…" He nodded. "Lexi was just one more thing for him to add to the list of things he'd done to get back at me."

"That was cruel," she told him.

"Yeah…" He scoffed bitterly. "Well Damon had the cruel market cornered back then."

"You must miss her…" She stared at his profile. "I mean my best friend is still alive, not that I ever talk to him… But I miss him; all the time…"

"I do." He nodded, staring at his hands in his lap, twisting his fingers, turning his ring over and over. "If it wasn't for her, I would probably be dead… And if not, then I wouldn't have learned control and the—the _monster_ inside of me would be loose, all the time…" He turned to look at her, his face twisted with pain. "She saved me."

Chloe reached for him, her hand finding his and squeezing. "I'm sorry you lost her, Stefan."

"Yeah." He swallowed thickly. "Yeah, me too."

She rubbed her thumb back and forth over his wrist, just holding on as they sat in silence.

"Sometimes… I think I deserved it," he admitted.

She looked up at him, confused.

"Not…" He blew out a sigh. " _Lexi_ didn't deserve it. But… The things Damon's done… Having Elena fall in love with him…" He shook his head. "I wanted to blame Katherine, but it was my fault too…"

"Can I get the cliff's notes version?" she wondered. "Because I'm getting a little lost in your 150+ years of information… Catch me up?"

He turned to look at her, finding she looked genuinely interested.

"You sure you don't want to put this maudlin show to rest and just get something to eat?"

As if on cue, a family left the restaurant and the noise from inside burst out to interrupt their moment. But as the heavy door swung closed once more, blocking the racket out, she turned to him.

"I'm sure." She nodded. "I've told you more than a few stories from home, so let's hear a few from yours…"

"Okay…" He raised his brows. "But it's not something I'm proud of."

"You're a vampire with a severe guilt complex…" She smiled gently. "So far I haven't heard much of anything you're proud of."

He chuckled shortly, ducking his head. "You make a good point."

She shook his hand. "Start with Katherine."

His humor faded. "That was really the beginning… It all changed with her."

Telling the story of him and Katherine and Damon had gotten easier over time; even if admitting to some of those things still left him feeling bad. But he did, and Chloe was a good listener. He supposed she had to be given her choice of career. She didn't interrupt unless to clarify something or ask questions about things, like what a Ripper was (a mindless killing machine consumed with bloodlust to near, and sometimes complete, insanity), or how the rings worked. As his story went on, it changed from the darkness of being controlled by his hunger, to the lighthearted, if still broody, tale of how he and Lexi spent so much of his undead life trying to be better than the urge to kill and maim. And before long, he was telling her about Elena, from her being a doppelganger to falling in love to sacrifice and falling prey once again to his bloodlust. And to Damon. From wanting to trust him, wishing he could, to witnessing the trust and the looks he'd seen between Damon and Elena, the _love_ he knew she had for his brother. And finally, to his decision to leave Mystic Falls, telling Elena that she didn't have to make a choice because he was making it for her, packing up what little he needed before getting on the road, destination unknown.

"And a few months later, I sat down at a bar and I met you…" He turned to look at her, sitting rather stunned in the passenger seat. "I think you know the rest from there."

"Wow…" She let out a heavy sigh. "So…" Her brows furrowed and she turned to him. "You think you deserve Elena being in love with your brother because Katherine was in love with you even though Damon was in love with her… And because you hate yourself and everything you've done and you don't think you deserve her, even though Damon is nowhere _near_ being a saint."

He paused, thinking it over, and then nodded. "Yeah, that's about it."

"Okay…" She raised a brow. "Don't take this the wrong way, but… You're an idiot."

He laughed, biting his lip. "Wow, and _how_ exactly am I supposed to take that the _right_ way?"

"Stefan…" She rolled her eyes. "If there's one thing I know about women it's that we don't like having our choices made _for_ us… If we love someone, whether they think themselves worthy or not really doesn't matter… It's what _we_ think! And obviously, this Elena girl really loved you."

"When Elena fell in love with me, I was a different person… She didn't know these things about me yet," he argued.

"But she loved you after, right? When she learned those things?"

"She was in too deep by then… She tried to break it off at first, but…" He shook his head. "Things started spinning out of control and she thought she could love me despite everything, maybe _because_ everything else seemed so screwed up."

"How do you know she would've picked Damon?" she wondered, staring at him. "After everything you went through together, how do you know she wouldn't have picked you?"

"Because even if she did, it would've been the wrong choice." He frowned. "They have something… There's something there, between them, and it wasn't the same with us…"

Her face fell, sad _for_ him. "You loved her too."

"Of course." Her brows screwed up tight. "Of course I did, but…" He blew out a long breath. "Not enough."

Chloe shook her head. "The only way you are ever going to be enough is when you _let_ yourself be."

He turned to look at her, confused.

"You're so busy beating yourself up, putting yourself down, that you never consider the fact that maybe you were always enough for her… You just weren't enough for _you_."

His eyes fell. "What's the difference?"

She smiled gently. "One day you'll get it," she told him.

Before he could argue, he looked up and saw the owner of the restaurant had turned the sign to closed. "Looks like I just talked us out of a semi-Italian dinner."

She snorted. "I'm sure there's a pizza place around here somewhere."

Half-smiling, he drew out his keys and turned the car back on. "I owe you," he told her, turning back onto the road.

"Yes, you do. I was really looking forward to pasta tonight," she said dismissively.

" _Chloe_ …"

Sighing, she looked over at him. "Look, for as long as you're willing to be on this crazy adventure with me, we're _friends_ … Friends don't owe each other just for talking… We had a moment, Stefan. You were honest, I was honest, and now I know a whole lot more about you, so…" She shrugged. "We're even, okay?"

It took him a minute, but eventually, he nodded. "Okay."

"Awesome." She winked. "Then the only thinkg you owe me is one double cheese pizza, partner."

Grinning, Stefan found the nearest pizza place and paid up.

…

"What's one town need with three antique stores anyway?" Chloe wondered, walking around the much brighter and better smelling store of the third robbery victim, Mr. Bobby J. Boyd.

"We all specialize in different things," Boyd said, appearing and apparently having overheard her. A stocky man in jeans and a tucked in plaid shirt, he cut an imposing figure with his thick brown mustache and steely eyes. "Bradley's got all the pretty, fancy stuff that women are real interested in when they're lookin' for somethin' to pretty up their places… Cafton's got just about everything; a real treasure trove for any antiquer. And me…" He waved an arm up toward the wall of guns. "Well I think you can see what I specialize in."

Stefan nodded, smiling faintly as he walked up. "Artillery."

"Got it in one," Boyd said with a friendly nod. "Got a call from John Bradley last night, said you two popped by, askin' questions, got him all riled up 'bout his security system again. Keeps goin' on about suin' but doesn't do nothin' about it."

"Yes, well…" Chloe shrugged. "We just want to know what happened… Actually, we were hoping you might be able to clear up a few things."

"'Bout what, exactly? I got robbed, cops are lookin' into it, nothin' much more to the story." Boyd reached under his counter for a glass cleaner and a rag before he started wiping down the display cases.

"Both Bradley and Cafton had security systems and both of them didn't go off," Stefan said, eyeing the man. "Did you have the same problem?"

"I did." He nodded, focusing on a spot where the traffic of fingerprints seemed higher. "Didn't make so much as a peep while I was bein' robbed."

"A revolver from the Civil War," Chloe said. "Would you say that was worth much?"

"Depending on the collector, but that particular piece wasn't much…" He tossed his rag down and leaned back, tucking his thumbs in the loops of his jeans. "See that side hammer piece, broke right off… Made it kinda useless. Had my feelers out, see if I couldn't find a genuine replacement, but ain't had no bites yet."

"So it was more of a display piece," Stefan said. "If you had any buys before you could get it fixed anyway."

"Yeah, and I wasn't havin' much luck there," Boyd said. "Musta broke off some time before it was sold off at auction; probably why I got it for so cheap. People like collectin' things for the story behind them, but they like more when all the parts are there."

"You bought it at an auction?" Chloe asked, curiosity peaked.

"Yeah, I buy most of my stuff there…"

She nodded. "What else was being sold there?"

"Everything. Don't pay much attention to anythin' that doesn't have to do with artillery, but Bradley found a few pieces he liked."

Stefan's brows rose. "Was Cafton there?"

Boyd shrugged. "Think I saw him. Don't know if he bought anythin'. Doesn't talk much. Keeps to himself a lot. Problem I find with some antiquers… Live in the past or in their heads and they only come out to make a sale."

Chloe nodded. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to remember what Bradley bought at the auction, would you?"

He frowned, forehead furled as he thought back. "Furniture mostly. I remember one piece was one of those old vanities, came with a stool so you could sit down and do your make up or whatever you like."

"Did anything else come with it?" Stefan asked, brows hiked. "Like an antique hairbrush?"

He scratched his chin and nodded. "Yeah, I think it came with a brush and a comb; auctioneer put 'em on there to make it look more appealin' and Bradley talked him into addin' them in with the vanity."

"When was the auction, do you remember?"

"Yeah, it was a couple weeks before I got robbed," he said, nodding. "I only put the gun out the week before, wanted to try and clean it up best I could, see if I couldn't get _somethin'_ for it…"

"Were there any people interested?" Stefan wondered. "Maybe really focused on the gun?"

He shook his head. "Nope, just the usual tourists comin' through and... Charlie, local boy likes to look around, but… He's too young to buy most of the stuff in my shop; he just likes to look… Boy's got an eye for guns though."

"Charlie?" Chloe waved her pencil. "Does he have a last name you know of?"

"Cobb." He frowned. "But Charlie's a good kid. He wouldn't do somethin' like this."

"Of course," Stefan agreed. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Boyd."

"If we have any more questions—" Chloe started.

"I'll be here. Six days a week. Only take Sundays off," he told them.

"Great. Thank you."

They left the store quickly and rounded on each other as they stepped outside.

"I'm guessing we're going to see Cobb?"

"What if Cafton hired him?" She stared at Stefan searchingly. "I really want to hope that Cafton didn't do this, but Stefan if Cobb is out there robbing people at the drop of a hat, how are we supposed to ignore that?"

"We don't know that's what happened yet," he reminded. "For all we know, Cobb stole the gun on his own and to cover it up, he hit the other two places… You heard Boyd, Cobb was really interested in guns but too young to buy one."

She sighed, gnawing at her lip. "This whole case is giving me a bad feeling…" She shook her head. "If Cobb really liked guns, enough to break into an antiques store to steal one, why go for the broken one?" Her brow furrowed. "You saw Boyd's collection; if he had the ability to break in without being detected, then _why_ that one?"

Stefan frowned. "I don't know."

"Let's find a phone book and track this kid down," she decided.

…

Charlie Cobb lived in a squat white house that was in desperate need of a new paint job. The yard around it was filled with sparse yellow grass and dirt. An apple orchard filled up one whole field to the left while an old ramshackle barn and an empty horse pen with a fence falling apart took up the right. Leaving Stefan's car near the end of the drive, they walked up toward the dreary Cobb house, eyes searching for any sign of life. The only Cobb listened in the phone book was a woman named Georgia, who they assumed was Charlie's mom, but there was no car in the drive to say she might be home.

"Maybe we should've called first," Chloe muttered, before dragging out her phone.

"You kept the number?"

"I wrote it down just in case," she explained. "But I didn't want to warn him we were coming." She pressed send on her phone and held it up to her ear, covering the other with her hand to block out background noise.

She listened to the ringing; once, twice, six times and no answer. Just as she was about to hang up, she noticed something in the front window, like a curtain moving. Her brow furrowed as she squinted.

"You saw that?" Stefan asked quietly, staring hard at the house.

She nodded and pressed end on her phone. "He's home."

Their attention was quickly diverted however, when a blue-grey dog rushed out from behind the house, barking angrily as he picked up speed. Dirt and grass was kicked up as his claws dug into the earth for traction; he was long and lean with muscle, his ears back and his fur raised.

For a second, Chloe was frozen, her eyes widening rapidly. The closer the dog got, the more her body tensed.

"Stefan," she squeaked. Finally, her feet moved and she backed up a step, bumping into his chest. " _Stefan!_ "

As the dog reached them, close enough now for her to make out black liver-spot like markings across his fur and that he had one blue and one brown eye, he bent back on his hind legs as if to ready himself to lunge at them. Before he could, however, Stefan was in front of her, his arm bent back around her waist, both shielding her and keeping her close. Bearing his elongated teeth, he hissed and snapped at the dog, who, in his surprise, yelped and stumbled back in fear. Stefan growled inhumanly down at the dog. Recoiling, it quickly took back off in the same direction it came, tail between its legs and head bowed.

Chloe tried to calm her breathing, her racing heartbeat. As the dog slipped behind the house, she slowly felt her terror beginning to melt away and brought her attention back to the man in front of her. He was tense beneath her hands, spread out across his back. Her body was still trapped beneath his arm, banding her close to him.

"Okay, we're okay," she told him gently. With a pat to the shoulder, she added, "You can put the Dracula face away."

Quickly, his hand rose up and touched his eyes before he let go of her and stumbled away, desperately trying to reign it in.

She sighed, shaking her head. "I've already seen it," she reminded. "Hard to forget when you're kissing a guy one second and dinner the next."

"Don't look," he told her, hunching his shoulders as he buried his fingers in his hair and covered his face.

"Hey, if you think I'm scared or I'll freak out or something, I won't…" She snorted. "You _just_ saved me from what was probably going to turn into an unfortunate Cujo experience. I mean, I know he was just trying to keep his home safe or whatever, but I prefer my jugular where it is!" Stepping up behind him, she pressed a hand to his shoulder. "You don't have to show me if you don't want to, but a few veins and some pink eye isn't going to scare me off now…"

Slowly, his hands fell and he glanced at her uncertainly from the corner of his eye. "I—I don't know what happened," he told her. "I should've grabbed you and run, but something… _snapped_ and I just—"

"Stefan, seriously, it's okay…" She smiled reassuringly. "You didn't hurt anybody. So the dog just learned he wasn't the alpha when you're around, big whoop, he'll get over it."

He let out a long breath and turned to look at her, but the veins were already receding.

"You really need to stop being ashamed of that," she told him.

Before he could argue, however, Charlie Cobb stepped out onto the porch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The state dog of Louisiana is a Catahoula Leopard dog.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**.

The inside of the Cobb house wasn't much better than the outside, sparse with mismatched knick-knacks laying around, kitschy wall adornments, and no real theme to anything. The wallpaper was peeling, there was water damage showing on the ceiling, and the whole house smelled old and musty. Chloe wrinkled her nose, but tried her best not to show her discomfort to the young teenager, an awkward boy whose clothes were faded with use and probably a size too big. He was gangly, with too long arms and legs, his dark hair a few inches longer than would be deemed attractive or popular, and a wariness about him that made him seem rude.

"Wasn't expectin' nobody," he told them, scratching his upper arm under the sleeve of his ratty t-shirt. "My aunt's not gonna be back for awhile, so if you were thinkin' of sellin' somethin', she got all the money."

"Uh, no, we…" Stefan shook his head, looking back at her, brows furrowed. "We're not selling anything. Actually, uh… We wanted to talk to you about the recent robberies in town."

Charlie's brows furrowed and he pursed his chapped lips in confusion. "Why ya askin' 'bout that? Happened like a month ago. S'old news."

"We're from a newspaper a town over," Chloe said, stepping forward to meet his probing brown eyes. "We were talking to Mr. Boyd and he said you were one of his favorite would-be customers."

"M' still too young to buy, but I like to look…" He shrugged. "Boyd's got a big collection… Been savin' some money so I can buy from him when I'm old enough."

"You're a big gun buff?" Stefan asked, raising a brow and searching out the boy's gaze. "Or maybe it's a certain time period you like? Boyd had a really nice Civil War collection, yeah?"

Charlie shrugged, directing his gaze to the floor.

"Me personally," Stefan continued, "the Civil War was my favorite period for artillery… I'm a bit of a fan, myself… Like to think I know quite a bit about it." He laughed lightly and motioned back to Chloe, "My partner not so much… She's a modern girl. But me, I like history."

Slowly, the boy looked over at Stefan. "You collect anything?"

"Books mostly…" He nodded, tucking his arms behind his back. "I have a private collection of books that were published during the time. But I have a few other things; medallions, pictures, that sort of thing…"

"I've been collecting since I was a kid," Charlie told him. "My dad left me a real Confederate flag, great condition… Growing up, I used to stare at it all the time, wish it was mine…" He turned his eyes away, his expression distant.

"What about now?" Stefan wondered, his voice steady, almost hypnotic. "What's your collection like now?"

Charlie nodded his chin as if telling him to follow before he started walking, making his way down the hall where a few pictures hung crookedly. Finally, he stopped at a door, the paint chipping off of it. He pushed it open and walked inside and, following after him, Chloe drew in a sharp breath. It seemed like every inch of space was covered in something. He had a number of coin collections on his desk, all marked with different time periods. What she assumed to be the same Confederate flag he'd been talking about was pinned to the ceiling above his bed. There were pictures of soldiers, of families, that she was sure dated back to the Civil War. He even had an outfit, what looked to be a _real_ soldier's uniform, even if it was missing a number of buttons and the tassels on the shoulder were ratty and aged.

"This is…" She searched for the right word and offered awkwardly, "an _amazing_ collection, Charlie."

He nodded, kicking at a pile of regular clothes lying on the floor.

Stefan walked toward the scattered portraits and looked them over. "Did you have ancestors in the war, Charlie?"

"Yeah, a great-great-great… whatever grampa," he told him, taking a seat at the edge of his bed. "I was named after him. He was Charlie J. Cobb… A _real_ soldier." The admiration was obvious in his voice and telling since everything he'd said prior to talk of his ancestor had been told in a monotone.

"He died in the war?" Chloe wondered.

"No. He made it through. It was the trip home that killed him." Hunching his shoulders, Charlie rested his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor.

Chloe looked over at Stefan, who was frowning as he perused the room once more.

"So, Charlie, we were hoping you might be able to help us… This is a small town and since you frequent the antique stores, we were hoping you might be able to tell us who you think might've robbed the stores."

Shrugging, he started picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans. "My aunt says it was probably just people driving through or somethin'. Real stupid criminals though, 'cause Boyd's got nicer guns in his shop than that old Kerr."

"He does," Stefan agreed, pausing to stare out the window thoughtfully.

"There's not anybody in town that you think fits the bill for this kind of thing?" Chloe wondered.

"Not anybody around town, no. I think my aunt's probably right." He kept his eyes on the floor then and waited, whether it was for them to ask more or leave, neither Chloe nor Stefan could be sure. But it was obvious that the kid either didn't know much or wasn't social enough to share what he did know.

"Okay, well, we really appreciate you talking to us," she told him.

He nodded, but didn't looking at her.

"Yeah, thanks for your help, Charlie." Stefan turned to smile at him, but Chloe could see that it was forced. "We'll see ourselves out." Crossing the room, his hand pressed against her back to get her moving.

He didn't say anything more as they left and didn't pause as they stepped out into the open field, though Chloe's eyes darted for any sign of the dog. They were silent until they climbed into the car and started back toward town.

"So, was it just me or was that kid giving off a seriously weird vibe?"

His brows hiked in amusement. "Not just you."

"Seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if his _aunt_ wasn't tied up in the basement…" She frowned. "Although with the state of that house, it's bound to fall in on her any second now."

"I'm pretty sure it was breaking a number of health codes," he agreed.

"So let's look at the facts," she said, leaning back in her seat. "We've got a creepy kid obsessed with the Civil War who frequents antique shops and a whole lot of Civil Wars era stuff missing…" Her eyes narrowed. "So now all we have to do is figure out if this kid was _hired_ to rob them, or if he took matters into his own hands because he didn't feel like waiting around to be of age to buy from Boyd."

"So all this for one gun? And a broken one at that?" Stefan frowned, shaking his head. "It doesn't add up. Charlie said himself that Boyd had a lot of nice guns in there, and plenty were from the Civil War… So why would he go after that one?"

Chloe turned her eyes away, her mouth pursed. "Sentimental value? He said his great-great, etcetera, grandfather was in the war… He was bound to have a Kerr revolver."

"But why go for a broken one? Why not wait for something better?" He sighed, frustrated. "Something's not right."

"We'll add it all to the wall," Chloe told him, nodding decisively. "Maybe when we've got everything right in front of us, it'll start to make sense."

Stefan offered an agreeable half-smile, but she could see he was still turning over his questions in his head. There was nothing she could do to help though; until it was solved, he'd have questions. She grinned to herself; it looked like the curiosity bug had bitten him too.

…

Unfortunately, Chloe's Wall wasn't answering everything as neatly as either of them had hoped. She paced the floor in front of the bed, hands on her hips, sleeves rolled up her forearms, teeth gnawing away at her lip as she glared at the information she had pinned all over. Stefan was using her laptop, sitting at the table with it propped open, searching the town's newspaper clippings over again for any missed clues. He paused when he noticed a pattern, one a little more sinister than that of a few missing artifacts. "Chloe, did you notice the murders going on around town?" he asked.

"Hmm?" She looked back at him over her shoulder, brows knotted. "Oh. Yeah, I did." She nodded. "There's been, what? Four in total?"

"That's kind of high for such a small town, isn't it?" he asked, looking from her to the screen. "I mean, it's not Smallville or Mystic Falls… as far as we know."

She pursed her lips, but nodded. "It is high. But the local authorities are on it."

"So if you _know_ about it and you do Murder Mystery, which I know you do, then _why_ aren't we working that case?" he wondered. "I checked and it's still not solved."

"Easy, Tiger," she said, smirking. "This is your first leap into Sherlock-hood. I figured we should start small and climb the scale to murder."

"Robbery is small?" he asked, lips curled at the corners with amusement.

She shrugged. "Smaller than murder."

She crossed the room toward him then and Stefan was momentarily distracted by the sway of her hips. Standing just behind him, she leaned over his shoulder and started typing something in. But Stefan couldn't get his eyes to focus; instead, he was awash in apples again. Turning his head, his nose brushed against the column of her throat. "What _is_ that?" he wondered, brows furrowing. "You didn't… _smell_ like that before."

"Smell like what?" she asked, her body stilling, fingers still hovering over the keyboard.

His hand rose up, the tips of his fingers dragging slowly, gently down her neck, barely skimming. " _Apples_ …" He shook his head ever so slightly. "Before… You—You were wearing perfume… _Here_." He tapped her pulse.

She shivered. "That's my favorite perfume. I only break it out on special occasions," she murmured. "But you're right, it doesn't smell like apples."

He breathed out deeply and then tipped his head, his nose grazing her neck. "It's _everywhere_ …"

"Wow, okay Super-Sniffer, I have no idea _what_ you're smelling…" Her voice waivered, despite her bid at trying to be casual, even dismissive. She wasn't unaffected by the way he was touching her, leaning into her.

"It's _intoxicating_ …" he muttered deeply. "Everything about you…" Suddenly, helpless against the urge, the tip of Stefan's tongue reached out and dabbed at her neck, so quickly he'd barely had a taste. But just as his tongue reached for more, she pulled away.

Breathing heavily, her pupils dilated, Chloe gave herself a shake. "I think we should look into the town's archives," she told him, her voice a note too high to be considered casual.

He raised a brow, his eyes still focused on her throat, narrowing as she swallowed thickly.

"We'll investigate what the town had to do with the Civil War, see if it brings up any leads," she continued. Forcing her eyes away, she walked quickly toward the Wall. "We're missing something big…" She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. "So? What do you say, partner?" she said, forcing cheer as she looked back at him with a vague smile.

Stefan was fighting an inner-battle. His hands had fisted in his lap and his fangs were throbbing in his mouth. Unlike the usual need to feed, he didn't want to tear Chloe's pretty little throat out. But he _did_ want to drink from her.

"Stefan?" she prompted.

He nodded jerkily before standing from the table. "Tomorrow. We'll go to the archives tomorrow," he told her. Grabbing up his jacket, he stuffed his arms through the sleeves. "I need to go. I… I'm hungry," he said simply, casting his eyes to the floor.

Concern fell swiftly on her and she walked toward him, staring searchingly. "Are you sure you'll be all right? Hunting alone?"

He nodded. "It was only that one time," he assured. "I'll be fine. I haven't fed in awhile; it's probably why I feel off. I…" He clenched his teeth and looked away sorrowfully before turning an apologetic face on her. "I'm sorry for before. I… I was forward and… We've become friends and I don't want to ruin that." He shook his head meaningfully. "Truthfully, Chloe, this last week has meant a lot to me. I…" He sighed. "I didn't know how alone I was until I wasn't anymore." He nodded at her. "I don't ever want you to feel scared of me. So I'm really, _truly_ sorry if you did…"

She shook her head and closed the space between them. "Not scared," she told him seriously, reaching out to take his hand, squeezing it in hers. "Surprised, yes. And… a little confused. But _not_ scared." She stared up at him. "And maybe I should be, maybe a little bit of me thinks it's pretty foolhardy not to, but… I'm pretty sure my save-yourself switch was broken a long time ago."

He smiled slightly and nodded shortly. "Then maybe I'll just let you know when you should be freaking out." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She grinned. "My own personal human panic button… I like it."

"Ah, even better, a _vampire_ panic button," he corrected teasingly.

She laughed. "You're right." She stared up at him from beneath long eyelashes. "Definitely better," she told him sincerely.

He wanted to blame it on the hunger. It would probably be much easier that way. But as he stood there staring down into Chloe's beautiful face, for a moment he felt mesmerized. The dim lighting of the motel room gave her a warm glow and the sparkle of her green eyes was distracting. His hand was helpless against the urge, reaching up to brush soft blonde hair from her cheek and tucking it behind her ear. Her cheeks flushed then, a pale pink, and his thumb reached back to rub lightly over the curve.

"I should go," he said quietly.

"Right. Feeding time," she murmured back.

"What about you?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"I think I'm going to head into town for something a little less rare," she said with a quirk of her lips.

He smiled back. "Tomorrow then? We'll meet up and head over to the archives?"

She nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Great."

"So, have a good… _meal_ ," she said, chuckling lightly.

"You too."

But still he stood there, barely any space between them, his hand cupping her face.

"Stefan…" She covered his hand with her own and slowly drew it back.

He nodded, cleared his throat, and finally stepped away from her, turning and leaving the room.

Even as he walked away from her room, the door closed behind him, he could still smell apples lingering on the air.

…

He played with his dinner a little more that night than usual. He let the chase go on, weaving in and out of trees, vaulting bushes and racing up leaf-covered hills. The sly fox was quicker, more agile than the rabbits; it moved with a plan, knowing how to outrun, outmaneuver its attacker. But that only made it all the more enjoyable for Stefan. And finally, his blood racing in his veins, he gathered up the squirming red fox in victory and twisted its head, hearing the satisfying snap before he ripped a chunk of fur from around its neck and brought it to his mouth.

He hadn't eaten in days. Much like with the last time, the desire and desperation from blood had been absent, so he hadn't given it a second thought. But tonight had been close, _too_ close, and he didn't like the idea of losing control and taking it out on Chloe. She'd been nothing but understanding and helpful. The last thing he wanted to do was test that healing power of hers by removing her throat with his teeth. He was fairly sure that wouldn't grow back, meteor-rock fueled powers or not.

As his fangs sunk into the fox, the first drop of blood felt good, washing over his tongue with warm familiarity. But as it drained down his throat, the more he drank, the less full he felt. As he wrung the last few drops out into his mouth, he was hungry, more so than he'd been before he fed. Pushing up to his feet, his eyes moved quickly over the forest bed, looking for another to slake his hunger. He saw a squirrel scurrying and he chased it, this time not bothering with making a game of it, instead sinking his teeth into it even as it squirmed for freedom.

The ache came on suddenly, building in his gut and spreading out like a fire eating at his insides. It clawed at him, gripping his stomach, his lungs, in invisible talons and squeezing. His breath left him in a rush and he fell to his knees, the squirrel falling free of his hand as his fingers dug into the ground. He let out a loud shout of agony and thrashed his head back and forth as the pain spiraled up his spine and spread out over his body. A headache pounded away at his temples, the base of his skull throbbing along with it. He felt his teeth retract and then lengthen, repeating the process, over and over.

He fell onto his side and wrapped his arms around himself, his body twisting and turning, curling into a ball. But he felt it like a poison in his veins, crawling, burning, tearing at him. His organs felt on the verge of bursting from his body, exploding, sending blood and entrails everywhere. Tears leaked from his eyes, his teeth grinding together, and he let out a sob that echoed throughout the forest.

"Stefan?"

His eyes opened; he realized suddenly that he'd squeezed them shut as if to block out the pain. They moved blurrily all around him, glazed with tears, searching for the source of the voice.

"Stefan, can you hear me?"

He shook his head, wanting to wave at her to go away, to _stay away_ , but instead he gripped himself tighter as another wave flashed through him.

His head was thrown back, the veins along his neck tensed and bulging, and he growled out a cry against his will.

He heard hurried footsteps then and knew she'd heard him.

She crashed through the forest, leaping over fallen trees, and came barreling through a bush. When she was close enough, he heard her breathe out, " _Jesus_ …"

But instead of running away, which probably would've been smarter, she came forward and knelt down beside him, her hands on his arm, trying to turn him toward her.

"What… What _happened?_ "

He was panting, a sheen of sweat clinging to his skin. He felt panic cloud his mind; the only time he'd seen a vampire sweat was when they'd been bitten by a werewolf and were knocking at death's door.

"H-Hurts," he got out through his gritted teeth.

Chloe searched the area and saw the remains of a squirrel, bleeding out on the ground not far from him.

"Like last time," she murmured knowingly.

"Go," he told her.

"No. Are you _kidding?_ " She shook her head and reached out to run her fingers soothingly over his hair. "Stefan, you're in the middle of a forest, _alone,_ covered in blood and in _immense_ pain…" She raised a brow. "I'm not leaving you."

He swallowed back a cry as he felt a flare of agony rush through him. "Not… s-safe…" He shook his head. "S'not safe."

"Yeah, well, broken 'save yourself' switch, remember?" Not bothering to wait for a reply, she moved around to his head and lifted it, laying it back on her lap. "Listen, you're a little too heavy for me to drag out of here. But…" She chewed her lip. "You said it only lasted a few minutes last time, right?"

He nodded jerkily, staring up at her through his foggy eyes.

"So we'll wait a few minutes, see if it doesn't stop… And if not, then…" She sighed. "Then I'll call in the local authorities, say you were attacked by something out here, get you to a hospital…" She brushed her fingers over his forehead. "And if you're not okay with that, then we're just going to have to make a really awkward phone call to that brother of yours and see if he knows what's going on. 'Cause I'm afraid I don't know a whole lot about vampires or what makes them sick."

His body spasmed so strongly he couldn't even breathe for a few seconds, his chest arching forward while his shoulders drew painfully back. His eyes were forcibly held wide open, staring up at her, highlighted by the moon.

"I've got you," she told him quietly, her thumbs rubbing circles at his temples. "You'll be okay, Stefan. Just breathe through it…"

Slowly, the spasm ended and his breath returned to him, choppier and deeper this time.

He kept his eyes on her, blinking sluggishly when necessary. Her fingers delved lower, cradling his face upside down, her thumbs skimming over his cheek. And lower still, she massaged his neck, nails scraping lightly against his skin. She kneaded his shoulders for a couple minutes and spread her hands down his chest, pressing her palms down and rubbing circles. And very suddenly he realized that the pain had receded, that there was just a dull ache in his bones. He was tired, exhausted really, and he couldn't do much more than breathe and stare up at her. But it was gone and he was alive.

The cool night air dried the sweat from his skin and Chloe's fingers continued to move soothingly all over. Every once in awhile, he could feel himself twitch; his foot, his hand, even his shoulder jolted at random. But after fifteen minutes, he felt like he was in control again.

"Okay…"

She raised a brow. "Are you sure? Because I don't want you pushing it," she told him, face awash in concern.

He smiled faintly and gave a tiny nod. "'m okay." Taking a deep breath, he gathered all of his strength and pushed himself up to a seated position. He could still feel a throb inside of him, like he'd overexerted every fiber of his body, but he turned over onto his stomach anyway and shoved to his feet.

Chloe was quick to move to his side, taking one of his arms around her shoulders and wrapping hers around his waist.

"Don't push yourself," she ordered. "We can wait; give it a few more minutes."

"No, it's okay," he assured, taking a step forward.

His knees were weak. Worse, his whole _body_ was weak. He hadn't felt like this in years and he _hated_ it.

Chloe stayed patiently at his side, helping him through the forest, even as they slipped on a hill where twigs and leaves made a sturdy place to step hard to find. It must have taken nearly an hour to get out, his sense of direction completely lost and what little strength he had was nearly obsolete. But finally, they were at her car. She helped him into the passenger seat before circling around to get in on her side.

The drive back to the motel was a blur of lights and trees; Stefan stared dizzily out the window at the passing scenery. The cold glass felt good against his face and finally he closed his eyes and just soaked it in. When the door opened, he startled awake, eyes moving to and fro in confusion.

"Hey…" she said softly, catching him by the shoulder.

He blinked rapidly, trying to focus on her face, where she smiled at him reassuringly.

"We need to get out of the car and walk to the room, okay?"

He wanted to curl up and go back to sleep right where he was but then Chloe was leaning across him, unbuckling his seatbelt, and her hair brushed his face as she drew back. Even through blurry eyes, he stared. She was so pretty. With her blonde hair and her creamy white skin; she was like the opposite of them, of Katherine and Elena. At least in looks. Elena had been understanding too. She'd been comfortable and concerned and she'd wanted to help even when it meant putting herself in danger. His face screwed up, brows furrowed, lips pressed firmly in a line. And then he was out of the car and leaning on Chloe, who was helping him slowly from the car.

She dug around for her key while he leaned uselessly against her. Finally, the door was open and she shuffled him inside, dropping him back on the bed.

"All right, I don't know what's going on, but you've got two options here… One is that we call Damon. Because I was being serious before, Stefan. I don't know what's going on and I can't tell if you're not telling me or if you're honestly confused about what's going on too."

He shook his head; the last thing he wanted was Damon around, especially with how weak he felt.

"Option number two is that the animal blood is tainted for some reason. Which means you need different blood and since I'm not exactly equipped to break into a blood bank, which I'm not even sure this town has… That leaves _me_."

His eyes shot open and then found her, sitting next to him, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. "Chloe, _no_ …"

"You're sick and weak and I don't know what those animals are eating or drinking, but it is having a _seriously_ negative affect on you. But when you drank from me…" She stared searchingly at him. "You said you felt _stronger_ , Stefan…"

" _Please_ …" He reached for her, his hand curling around her neck, fingers buried at her hair. "Please don't…" He shook his head faintly. "I don't… I don't wanna be that monster again…" He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed again, " _Please_ Chloe."

When he opened his eyes again, she was staring down at him uncertainly, her brows furrowed. She reached up, her hand squeezing his forearm gently. "Fine. But if at any point during the night you start convulsing or—or writhing in pain, you're gonna have a shot full of Chloe whether you want it or not."

He nodded, appreciation and relief flooding through him.

"Good." She nodded before standing and moving past him to grip the blanket and sheet, pushing it down the bed. Hands on her hips, she returned to his side and sighed. "Last thing before you fall asleep; help me move you back on the bed better. You're not sleeping alone and frankly I don't have the energy to get you back to your room." She shrugged. "Plus there's the upside of being able to work on my laptop while you sleep off _whatever_ this is…"

His eyes fluttered tiredly, but he managed to kick his feet out and push himself up while she maneuvered his torso until he was laying properly, lengthwise on the right side of the bed, his head on a pillow that smelled faintly of her. His eyes were barely slits as he watched her move around, reaching for and untying his shoes, tossing them to the floor along with his socks. "We're gonna leave the rest of that on," she told him, motioning to his clothes before she brought the sheet and blanket up to his shoulders and tucked him in. Hovering a moment, she reached her hand down and brushed her fingers through his hair and along his temple, stroking gently for a few seconds. "Go to sleep, Stefan…" she murmured, before her lips pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He drifted off, weightless, finally free of even the random twitches of pain that had followed since the forest.

He woke up a few times throughout the night, once only to hear just the click-clack of Chloe's fingers on the keys of her laptop before fading away once more. Again when she was undressing for bed, his eyes blinked open and focused on the hazy form of her walking to the bathroom, highlighted only by the light flowing through the door, shedding her shirt over her head, her jeans already kicked off, a black thong showing off her shapely ass, and then as the door closed and the light was gone, he'd fallen back asleep, exhaustion taking him so quickly he thought he might've imagined it. The third time, it was to find the room completely dark; it took a few seconds before his faculties returned to him. His eyes darted around the room before he felt movement next to him and he turned his head. Blonde, ruffled hair poked out from beneath the blanket and he was suddenly very aware of where he was and who he was with.

He leaned his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling a moment.

The last time he was in bed with Chloe had been after he'd bit her; she'd rolled over in the middle of the night and pressed herself into him, still completely asleep, snuggling up to his body like she knew him much better than she actually did. He hadn't wanted to wake her and he'd felt guilty; that's what he blamed it on when he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. Truthfully though, it had felt good. Felt normal, even. To have another body so close, so intimately entwined with his. And Chloe was all soft curves and warm skin and silky blonde hair. It'd been easy to forget everything else and just hold her.

What had happened in the forest couldn't be ignored though. Maybe there was something infecting the animals; or at least something they were eating that was affecting him. Or maybe it was something else entirely. He wasn't sure. But it worried him. He hadn't felt pain like that before. And never for so long; usually his ability to heal kicked in and shut out the pain before it could even manifest entirely. This time was different and he needed to know why.

"You're too loud," Chloe's muffled mutter interrupted. Suddenly a hand sprung out from beneath the blanket and swiped at his face, like she was trying to close his eyes. "Go' sleep."

He chuckled slightly, turning to look at her, hidden by the cover of blankets.

Sighing, like she knew it wasn't that easy, she pushed herself up and out from beneath the blanket and used her hand braced on his chest to turn herself over onto her side, facing him. She perched her head on her other hand and stared up at him sleepily. "Feeling better?"

His lips curled at the corners faintly. Reaching across, he brushed away the messy chunks of hair falling over her face. "Yes." He nodded. "Thank you… For finding me last night and…" He winced. "Carrying me back through the woods."

She shrugged. "You know, if you weren't poisoned and I didn't stumble on you writhing on the ground in pain, you'd probably be pretty pissed at me for following you out there," she reminded.

"You could've been hurt," he told her. "I don't… _think_ straight when I get like that."

"We should talk about it." She rubbed one of her eyes with the heel of her palm. "Really talk about this whole vampire thing and what it means for you. And _maybe_ set down some guidelines or rules, because…" She raised a brow at him. "I don't like the idea of you hunting alone, _at least_ not while this whole animal thing has you so…" She frowned. " _Loopy_."

He snorted. "Loopy?"

"I was being kind," she said, grinning.

"Okay. But when this is cleared up, then I don't want you anywhere near where I'm hunting…" He stared at her meaningfully, his brows hiked and his eyes wide. "I don't ever want to hurt you."

Chloe's mouth quirked with a smile. "And I respect that…" Her eyes darted away and then returned as she amended, "As long as you're safe. Which, for the moment, you're not."

"Okay." He nodded. "But maybe we could do it like before, where you're safely up by the car, out of hunting rage."

"Ooh, _or…_ " She snapped her fingers. "We could use two-way radios!" Her eyes sparkled happily. "That way, if you ever start feeling sick or weird, all you'd have to do is press the button on the radio and groan and I'd be there as quickly as I could!"

He bit his lip to hide his amusement at her excitement and nodded. "Good idea."

"Great, then we'll pick them up before we hit up the archives tomorrow." She paused, worrying her lip and arching her brows. "Unless you're not up for that…?"

"No, I'm okay. I'll be fine," he assured, adding a close-lipped smile for her benefit. "Really. I feel a lot better already and I'm sure I'll be okay for tomorrow."

Her eyes narrowed uncertainly, but she gave a short nod. "If you're sure."

"I am."

"Good. Then we can get back to sleep." She dropped her arm and laid her head down on the pillow. "Also…" She patted his chest with her hand, which he only now realized had been there the whole time. "You owe me food. I skipped dinner to make sure you'd be okay and then I was too worried to get anything to eat after we got back." She closed her eyes and nodded. "Blueberry pancakes will wash it all away."

He laughed under his breath before covering her hand with his own. "Blueberry pancakes it is then," he said quietly.

She hummed softly before falling back to sleep.

He watched her a moment before finally turning his face back up toward the ceiling and closing his eyes.

He fell asleep just as Chloe's fingers threaded with his.

…

Chloe groaned appreciatively at the first bite, her eyes fluttering dramatically.

With a laugh, Stefan asked her, "Good?"

She pointed her fork, dripping with syrup, at him and winked. "All is forgiven."

He smiled, lifting his mug of coffee for a drink.

After chewing, she licked her lips clean and said, "Okay, so you're sure you're up for hitting the local archives?" She raised a brow at him. "You could always go back to the motel room and rest… _Dinner_ last night really took it out of you."

"I'm fine, Chloe, really," he assured. "Actually I'm looking forward to this."

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

"I think it could be interesting. Investigating the town's involvement in the Civil War."

"Ah, you mean it'll bring up some memories that you can reminisce over fondly?" she teased.

He nodded his head side to side before shrugging. "Honestly, I have as many bad memories as I do good."

She frowned. "Because you were turned, or…?"

His eyes fell. "Up until I was turned, I think I actually had it pretty easy... While the rest of the country was at war, I was safe and comfortable… Katherine came to stay with us and everything seemed… _idyllic_." He frowned. "Damon went to war, but he wasn't cut out for it then… Half the time, the war was secondary. Everything with Katherine mattered more…" He stared down at this coffee, his gaze distant. "And then, when I was turned, I… I changed." He shook his head. "I turned off my emotions and I just… I became this—this _killing_ machine. _All_ I lived for was destruction, _maiming_ , murder…" His lips pressed into a thin line. "And then Lexi saved me and…" He blew out a long breath. "Things were better for awhile, but I always struggled." He raised his eyes to meet hers. "When I look back on it, it feels like somebody else's life…"

"Because you're so different?" she wondered.

"Maybe. Maybe because the _world_ is so different…"

Chloe reached across the table and patted his hand. "We all change…" She shrugged one shoulder. "Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. The point is that change is always happening and we _do_ have control over it. We become who we want to be or who we _let_ ourselves be." She stared at him seriously. "You didn't want to be a Ripper, so you changed your ways, your lifestyle… You did everything in your power not to be."

"And it didn't always work," he argued.

"No, but the point is that you _tried_. That you _recognized_ that the part of you that wanted those things was _wrong_."

He leaned forward and said in a hushed whisper, "Somehow I just don't think the families of the people I _killed_ would think the same way."

"Stefan…" She stared up at him from beneath her lashes. "I'm never going to say that what you did was okay, but I will say that living the rest of your undead life paying for sins that you never wanted to commit is no way to live…" She shook her head. "The only thing you _can_ do is try your best to _never_ make the same mistakes again… To find a way to control that need in you." She tapped his hand with her finger and told him sincerely, "And I think you'll find that."

He let out a resigned breath. "I hope so."

The waitress came by then and waved the pot of coffee at them questioningly.

Stefan tipped his nearly empty cup in her direction for a refill while Chloe sat back and continued eating her pancakes.

Left in silence once more, he watched her for a moment, thinking to himself how lucky he was to have found her.

…

The archives room at the local library was so dusty that Chloe felt a constant itch at the back of her throat. No matter how much she cleared it or coughed though, it remained, tickling irritably at her. The librarian, an older woman with stooped shoulders, a perma-frown, and a stick up her ass the size of a tree, led them to the Civil Wars area before disappearing so they couldn't ask any questions.

"Polite," Chloe muttered, rolling her eyes.

Piling books and carefully sorted and laminated newspapers and pictures onto the table, they sat down across from each other and started looking.

"So what _exactly_ are we searching for here?" Stefan wondered, browsing through an overflowing book of newspapers from 1860 to 1865.

"Exactly…?" She frowned. "I have no idea."

He snorted.

She rolled her eyes. "Look, all I know is that everything stolen dates back to the Civil War. So let's see what this little town had to do with it and hope it brings up some results. Because the only other explanation I have for what's happened is an insurance scheme or a weird kid trying to live up to his great-great-great grandfather's image…"

"Okay." He nodded. "Can't hurt to try, right?"

She smiled at him brightly. "Right!"

She wasn't so cheerful three hours later, however, when her eyes felt like they were going crossed from reading all the small print on everything she came across. Comically, she pulled the two-way radio they'd bought earlier that day out of her purse, turned it on and said into it, even while staring directly at him, " _This_ is why I sucked at history," she muttered. "It's _boring_." She paused and then added, "Over."

With a chuckle, he dug his own out and, holding his thumb down on the button, replied, "It was definitely more interesting when you were _living_ it," he agreed, rubbing at his eyes. "Over."

Dropping it down to the table top, she rested her forearms in front of her and leaned forward. "Somehow I think your interest had less to do with the war and more to do with the pretty Katherine," she reminded wryly.

He smirked. "True."

Sitting forward in her seat, she asked, "Hey, is your family listed in any of this?"

"Why?" He grinned. "Hoping to see a picture of me back in my Civil War's _finest?_ "

She half-smiled. " _Possibly_."

"I don't know," he said, furrowing his brows as he searched the pages he was on. "Do they have a list anywhere? Of which families served for the Confederacy? Damon would be on it."

Chloe searched around her pile before finally coming up with something. "Aha!" she cried, waving the laminated page triumphantly. "Oh… Unfortunately I think this is only of the families in Louisiana… Doesn't look like they were too interested in saving any history on the other supporters…" Looking down the page though, she paused. "Hey, Cobb's on here… Charlie's ancestor."

"Let me see?" he asked, holding his hand out.

Chloe passed it over to him and Stefan browsed the page, brows furrowed. "He's indexed," he told her. "Meaning that somewhere in this chaos, there's information on Charles Cobb…"

"And you think it might be important?" she wondered.

"No lead unexplored, right?"

She grinned. " _Very_ good point!"

Together, they searched for which books he was referenced in, finally coming up with one that had small biographies about the families of Louisiana and what happened to them post-Civil War.

"Found him!" Stefan said, pointing at a small, blurry, black-and-white headshot of a Confederate soldier.

Chloe leaned over his shoulder to see. "His is a little longer than the others," she noticed.

"Yeah. It says here that he was actually murdered on his way home. After the war ended, he started the trek back but he was attacked, robbed, and killed…"

"Well, Charlie _did_ say he died coming back from war," she muttered.

"Chloe…"

She paused, not liking the ominous tone. "Yeah?"

"He was killed with his own gun…" His lips pressed into a line. "A Kerr's Patent Revolver." When he looked up at her, he was frowning darkly. "Apparently he stopped in a nearby town to pick up gifts for his family; a book for his wife, a tea set for his daughter, and a wooden rocking horse for his son."

"Well… This just got a little more interesting." She half-smiled at him but there was no humor in it. "Looks like you got a little bit of murder in your first case, after all."

He snorted. "Maybe more than you think." He pointed to the print on the page. "The men that killed Charles Cobb?" He pointed to the listed names. "They were fellow Confederate soldiers… And they were all from his hometown."

"They _knew_ him?" she asked, brows furrowed in surprise.

"Not only that… Some of their family _still_ lives here."

She drew her head back. "And you know that, because…?"

"Because at least one of them is one of the murder victims we've been reading about in the paper."

Chloe's face fell and she quickly took her seat across from him. "Wait… So you think _Charlie_ , that weird little Civil War's buff we just met… is _avenging_ his great-grandfather's murder?" Her eyes narrowed. "By _murdering_ the great-grandchildren of the people who killed him?"

Stefan licked his lips and stared down at the book in his hands. "I think Charlie considered Charles to be a hero… His whole life revolves around the Civil War and history… Back then, it wasn't uncommon for people to shoot each other just for looking at someone wrong… Chloe, this kid is _young_ and _confused…_ " He shook his head. "I think he stole the artifacts back, whether they were Charles' or not, and it kickstarted a chain-reaction."

"He's killing _innocent_ people, Stefan."

"I know, and we're going to stop him," he assured.

"We need to research the murders," she said, standing from the table and gathering everything together. "We need to find out how that scrawny kid managed to kill three people and hasn't been caught."

" _And_ how he broke into those stores. He didn't exactly look tech-savvy."

Chloe paused. "You're right." She frowned. "Which begs the question, if he was only taking these things because they reminded him of what was taken from his great-grandfather when he was killed, _why_ did Cafton act shifty when we asked him about the security system…?"

Stefan checked his watch suddenly. "We've still got time before he closes. Why don't we go ask him?"

She grinned. "No better time than the present."

He half-grinned at her. "I actually really liked the 90's."

She snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure the grunge look was really flattering to you," she assured sarcastically.

Chuckling, he followed her out of the archive room.

…

There was an hour to spare when they arrived at Cafton's store, the bell jangling above their heads once more as they entered. The older gentleman was sweeping the floor, stooped slightly over his broom, whistling under his breath.

"Uh, Mr…" Chloe paused. " _Caf?_ "

The store owner turned, his old, wrinkled face folding up in irritation. "You need somethin'?"

"We just have a few more questions…" Chloe walked further into the store with Stefan at his back, his narrowed eyes on the lookout for any sign of danger.

"Gave you all my answers. Nothin' left to say," Cafton dismissed. Walking around his front desk, he leaned the broom against a wall. "Be closin' soon. Don't think I'll be much help."

Chloe glanced back at Stefan, lips tilted in amusement. Returning her attention to Cafton, she said, "We went out to see Charlie Cobb the other day…"

She watched as he stilled, standing at the till, counting out what money he had in it. "So?" he asked gruffly, acting unaffected.

"He was very interesting… He had a huge Civil Wars collection. Even…" Her brows furrowed. "Even had an ancestor fight for the Confederates."

"Not so surprisin'. Lots o' families 'round here had a role in the war."

"Did you know Charlie well?" she questioned. "He seemed to prefer Boyd's artillery shop. But he probably visited here, looked around…"

Cafton closed the drawer on his till abruptly. "Customers come and go, I don't remember all they names."

"But he's from around here, he'd probably leave an impression," Stefan said, staring at the older man thoughtfully. "I bet you'd recognize him."

"What's this all about?" he wondered, looking between them, his thick, grey brows pinched together. "I'm a busy man. I don't got time for this nonsense."

Chloe walked toward him, her head tipped. "You reacted oddly when we mentioned the security system…" She raised a brow. "You know something. Maybe it has to do with Cobb, maybe it doesn't, but this is serious, Mr. Cafton. We _need_ to know what you know."

He stared at her a long moment, his lips pursed in a frown. "The security system I had installed didn't make no peep," he told her seriously.

She sighed.

Exhaling heavily, he added, "But the camera I put in caught something…"

"Camera?" Chloe and Stefan both said eagerly.

He scrubbed a hand down his mouth and gave a short nod before pointing a thumb to the back room, the door a simple sheet hung up on a string. "I got it in the back. Never gave it over to the cops 'cause it was… _weird_."

"Weird _how?_ " Chloe wondered, moving to follow after him.

Stefan reached for her arm to stop her, leaning down to say in her ear, quiet enough that Cafton wouldn't hear, "You want to go into a dark room with a suspicious man while we have a murderer on the loose?"

She smiled back at him. "This is probably why curiosity killed so many cats."

Rolling his eyes, he stepped in front of her. "Yeah, well I have a better chance of living through it, so just stay behind me, all right? At least until we know he isn't armed and dangerous?"

Chuckling, she took up the rear. "Fine, but don't think you can use your higher success rate of living against me every time."

He snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."

The back room was filled with antiques in need of repair and cleaning. Cafton was sitting at a small desk, littered with electronics and tools, playing with a tiny TV that sat atop a milk crate. "Camera's hooked up to look down on the back entrance," he told them. "Figure no fool would try and sneak in through the front." He fiddled around on the desk before grabbing up an old VHS tape and popping it in to rewind.

Chloe cringed at the outdated surveillance material.

Finally, he stopped the tape and tilted the screen at them. "This was the night I got robbed… Nothin' weird happened 'til just after three in the morning."

Chloe and Stefan crowded around the TV, leaning in closer to get a better look.

It was a few minutes before anything happened, but then suddenly the figure of a man stepped into the alleyway and walked toward the door. What was a little more than surprising was that he was dressed as a Confederate soldier, a few buttons missing on his jacket, but a soldier all the same. He put his hand over the handle and nothing happened except for the vague moving of his lips. A few seconds later, the door swung open slowly and the man stepped inside. He looked back over his shoulder and it was clear to see that it was Charlie Cobb standing before them, although with his shoulders back and his chin raised, a certain pride to be seen, he didn't seem like the scared, scrawny kid they'd met before.

A few minutes later, he returned, leaving the store with the tea set, wood horse, and the book.

"Don't know how he got that door open, but it ain't natural," Cafton said, sitting back on his stool, arms crossed over his chest. "Didn't touch nothin', didn't move nothin', just put his hand over that lock there and _bam_ , it was open…" He frowned, giving his head a shake. "Eerie stuff."

Stefan's hand suddenly took hers and he drew her back, far enough away that Cafton wouldn't be able to hear him.

He leaned in close, his expression intense, and told her, "That was a spell. Charlie _spelled_ that door open…" Shaking his head, he said darkly, "He's a _witch_."


End file.
